


The True Face of Dunwall

by Kairyn



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Agoraphobia, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brainwashing, Daud to the rescue, Dehumanization, Disfigurement, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Flashbacks, Gaslighting, Hypervigilance, Low Chaos Corvo Attano, Low Chaos Daud (Dishonored), M/M, Mute Corvo Attano, Mutilation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Touching, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Samuel is a Good Bro, Self-Esteem Issues, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Telepathic Bond, The Loyalists go Bad sooner, The Servants are the True Loyalists, Unfortunate Implications
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 47,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28899678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kairyn/pseuds/Kairyn
Summary: "I hear they had to hide the Kaldwin girl from him the whole time they were working with him. I heard they locked him in a cage and only let him out at night.""I will bring Emily by for a visit once you're done, Corvo. But only a short one. Remember... you're quite frightening now. You wouldn't want to upset her.""Outsider's Eyes, what did they do to him?""That -is the true face of Dunwall, men." Corvo would have glared at Daud if the drugs weren't so strong. Also, if he wasn't right.
Relationships: Corvo Attano/Daud
Comments: 113
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I am SORRY. I should not be doing this. I even had a resolution this year to not start stories before finishing another. I didn't even last the month... typical me.
> 
> So, I was watching a low chaos playthrough of Dishonored on youtube for little details and such to add to my other stories (three coins on the table, four bundled bodies in the corner, etc). When the playthrough reached the Hound Pits after the flooded district. A guard says that first line in the summary and I go, "oh that would be terrible. Like... like really terrible." ... my mind is a terrier with a chew toy about such leading thoughts so one thing led to another, and here we are.

"Do you know what this is, Corvo?" Burrows asked as the Torturer came closer with a large glass beaker in hand. Inside the container was some sort of thick viscous liquid that was tinged a sickly yellow-green color.

Corvo shifted in the seat, although the leather straps kept him from moving too much. "I'm sure it's something unpleasant," Corvo said, his voice raspy from all the screams they'd already managed to draw from his throat during this particular session. Blood was running down the side of his face, and his arm was aching particularly badly. Probably broken.

"Oh, indeed," Burrows said. "It's diluted River Krust Bile. But, as I'm sure you can imagine, it is still quite damaging to the human body. Trust me, you do not want to get it splashed on you."

Corvo eyed the glass container uneasily before looking back at Burrows. "So, Corvo. Are you still going to be difficult?" Burrows asked as he leaned closer. "I really would hate to ruin that face Jessamine loved so much just because you're stubborn. Just admit to what you did."

"You're the murderous dog, Hiram. Not me," Corvo said. "And you will get your comeuppance. I will make sure of it even if I have to do it from beyond the grave and don't think I won't find a way to do that."

Burrows sneered. "You make threats you can't carry out, Corvo," Burrows said. "And I tire of them."

"Poor you," Corvo said sarcastically. "It must be so trying. Say the word, and I'll switch places with you."

He expected the punch and spat the blood to the side before straightening in the chair again. He'd had worse so he kept his chin parallel with the ground. Corvo Attano was not going to cower in front of this traitor. "We will break you yet, Corvo," Burrows said. "Just remember, you bring this upon yourself by refusing to sign the confession."

"Just as you bring your fate upon you, Hiram," Corvo said.

Burrows scoffed and stepped back. "We shall see which of us ends up worse off, Corvo," he said. Corvo's reply died on his tongue as the Torturer reached for him with one meaty hand and lifted the Krust Bile up with the other. He steeled himself for the pain, but that was nowhere near enough as the acid burned.

* * *

When he stumbled out of the sewers a shattered eternity later, the sky was painfully bright. He hadn't seen the sun in ages. An old man was there waiting for him by a boat. He'd initially called out to him, but -once Corvo stepped out of the shadows of the pipes- he jerked back. Corvo didn't really blame him, but it still stung. He had caught sight of himself in a few shiny metal plates on his way through the prison. The deep puckered lines across his face had reached the bone in places, and the burns from the Krust Bile Solution had twisted and distorted what skin was left. But those were old burns compared to the fresh one on his jaw that they'd inflicted with a red-hot brand.

Corvo stayed back and adverted his disfigured face to try and help the other recover from the unpleasant shock. "Ah," the old man cleared his throat. "Sorry about that, sir, I just... you don't look much li-" He seemed to realize that what he was about to say wasn't great but awkwardly finished anyway, "like your pictures..."

Corvo was very much aware of that. "Sorry, again," he said. "I don't mean to offend."

Corvo wasn't sure why that would offend. The man was right, after all. It was just a truth that was also painful -physically and otherwise. "I'm Samuel, and I work for some good people who want very much to meet you. They said you'd come out here, but I can still hardly believe it. I'll take you to meet them. They're just down the river from here."

It wasn't as if Corvo had anywhere else to go, so he crawled into the little boat and huddled down. The sunlight was still painful to his eyes, and he could tell his appearance was upsetting the older man. Fair, but Corvo didn't want to make things worse.

Things were quiet and uncomfortable for a while. Then Samuel started talking. Something about the river and places along the shore that were good to stop at. A fishing spot here and a dangerous sandbar there. Small talk. Corvo had almost forgotten people did that. He didn't look up, but he listened. The old sailor's voice was a little rough but in an honest way. Not from screaming himself hoarse. It was nice. Corvo hadn't realized how tense he was until the muscles in his shoulders eased enough to be a relief. He hadn't had someone just talk to him about idle everyday things in so long. Corvo was able to drift some as he listened to the tone of the man's voice rather than the words.

But then, Samuel's tone changed ever so slightly. Corvo didn't lift his head, but he listened as the sailor told him where they were going. The Hound Pits Pub in a district marked off due to plague. As he felt the boat turn, Corvo tilted his face just enough to peer through his dirty, greasy strands of hair that had grown long and unruly. Lots of wooden posts jut out of the water along with broken slabs of concrete. "I'll take you up to meet Admiral Havelock and the rest of the Loyalists. The Admiral's a man to be reckoned with. If anyone can help you find that missing girl, Lady Emily, and clear your name, he can."

Samuel pulled up to a wall. Corvo wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a dock or if it was just convenient now that what used to be here had apparently been torn away. Corvo stayed in the boat and just examined the open, brightly lit area in front of him. His heart squeezed tight in his chest, and he felt his threadbare shirt stick to his back from a cold sweat that had broken out over his whole body. He couldn't breathe.

Nobody was there but Samuel, Corvo reminded himself. Nobody could see him. He was fine. His hands trembled where he clutched his own ribs. His eyes still stung from the brightness, but he allowed them to dart every which way to search for any threat. He didn't see any. Didn't mean there weren't any there, though. Could be plenty hiding behind that wall of scrap metal. Made sense. It was a high vantage point and gave cover. Easy to ambush someone from there.

"Corvo?" Samuel must have noticed he hadn't gotten out yet.

Corvo couldn't make himself move forward. There was a sign over the stairs that said 'hound pits' and several large windows on the buildings nearby that someone could snipe from. Not that Corvo was all that sheltered in the boat, but moving felt like a mistake. "Corvo, I promise, we're trying to help," Samuel said.

Contrary to what he said, that didn't help much. But, Corvo had to find Emily. He had to make sure she was alright. And he had so much time and ground to make up. He couldn't possibly find Emily alone in his current state. Corvo swallowed despite the discomfort in his throat and forced himself to get up. Immediately he wanted to drop back down, but he clenched his hands and stepped out of the boat and onto solid ground.

The area was still too open and exposed, so Corvo forced himself to hurry. He resisted the thought in his mind that pointed out he was practically fleeing. The courtyard between buildings at the top of the stairs still felt too open, so he went into the first door he spotted. He came into a dimly lit bar, and Corvo felt like his lungs could expand again. At the far end of the bar, he heard someone talking.

Corvo didn't know what to do. His appearance was ghastly, and they would definitely dislike it, but there was no way to hide. With a grimace, Corvo approached the two men. One was in a navy uniform, the Admiral Havelock that Samuel mentioned, Corvo assumed. The other looked like a noble and vaguely familiar, but Corvo had no inclination to think hard enough to place him.

Feeling more awkward than he ever had in his life, Corvo slowly made his way over. "We can continue this later, Lord Pendleton. The man of the hour is here," the navy man said.

The aristocrat, a Pendleton apparently, turned, but that was about when Corvo got close enough for the bar lights to illuminate his face completely. Pendleton recoiled sharply with a curse, and the navy man stopped speaking mid-word. "What is this?" Pendleton asked. His face was twisted and Corvo swore he felt the blades digging into his flesh again.

Corvo looked away from the horror that filled the man's expression. Havelock, who Corvo was sure had to be the navy man, cleared his throat awkwardly. "... Coldridge is not known for being kind, but... I must admit I wasn't expecting... this," he said.

"How horrible," Pendleton said before tugging at his jacket. He deliberately looked opposite Corvo. "It's a good thing you already had Joplin working on a mask, Admiral. He might have to wear it all the time."

"Trevor," the Admiral scolded. "This is just another injustice done by those usurpers. One they will pay for." Corvo noticed out of the corner of his eye the Admiral wasn't looking directly at Corvo either, although not as obviously as Pendleton. Their reactions hurt, but Corvo knew they were also warranted. He was no longer remotely good looking. He just wished they'd been a little better at hiding their disgust and horror.

Pendleton took a breath and nodded. "Yes, of course. My apologies, Corvo. I'm unaccustomed to brutality such as this, and it caught me unaware. It is good you've escaped the grasp of so-called men that would do such things and have joined us."

"It is," Admiral Havelock agreed. "We've been building a coalition of loyalists, aimed at ending the Lord Regent's tyranny and restoring the throne," he said. Havelock took his nearby drink and downed a good half of it in only a few gulps. Corvo wondered if that was how he always drank or if his face was driving him to downing the alcohol faster.

"At the risk of execution, we're committed to finding young Lady Emily and seeing her crowned as Empress," Pendleton said, still not looking at Corvo.

"We have big plans, but we can't do any of it without you. We need your skills, your ability in a fight. And, in helping us, we're going to help you destroy the men who murdered the Empress, took her daughter, and did that to you," he said, gesturing to Corvo's head with his hand near the end.

Corvo glanced between them, unsure how to take them at the moment. They had helped him escape just before he was executed, and they spoke all the words Corvo wanted to hear. But lots of people could tell others what they wanted to hear. It wasn't a particularly hard skill to develop. "Sorry, you must be exhausted," Pendleton said suddenly. Corvo blinked. He was, but he wasn't convinced that Pendleton didn't just want him and his mutilated face out of sight. "We can discuss this further after you've recovered. But before you retire, you should introduce yourself to Piero. He's in the other building, just across the alley there. The one with all the noises day and night. He's challenging at times, but his industrious mind buys him that right."

"Yes, Piero's as much an artist as a technician," Havelock agreed as he lit a cigarette. Pendleton took the chance to quickly move away from them. "He's going to be crafting the gear you'll need and the mask to hide your identity. Go talk to him and then get some sleep. We can talk more when you've rested," Havelock said. "Good to have you with us, Corvo. Nothing against the others, but there's no substitute for a man who's done his service for the crown."

Corvo still wasn't sure how to process any of that brief conversation. They had welcomed him, but it didn't feel all that friendly to him. But then, maybe he was expecting too much. It had been a long time since anyone had any sort of kind word for him. The guards in the prison had taken to referring to him as 'monster' or 'mongrel' most of the time, and each of these men had used his name even after seeing his face. Maybe they were exceptionally friendly, and Corvo just couldn't tell anymore. Perspective was hard to have when, for so long, the only people Corvo met wanted to hurt him.

Corvo left the bar and quickly followed the machinery noises to the building just next door. Inside was a workshop with a man at some sort of drill or something. Corvo wasn't an expert on machinery by any means. It was better lit than the bar, though, which he didn't like. Corvo braced himself as he approached the man working.

"I'll be crafting your weapons and gear," the man said without even looking up from what he was doing. "All custom work. For you, I will create the tools of a master assassin." And then he did look over. Corvo stiffened but was surprised when the man, Piero, didn't say anything before turning back to his work. Just in time for the whale oil to run out.

Piero asked Corvo to get more and, bewildered at the utter lack of mention of his disfigurement, Corvo did so. Piero immediately went back to whatever he was doing. "Here, see?" he asked as he worked. "The assassin's mask. You're a wanted man, and unfortunately, it seems that they've made your face very distinctive. As if it weren't already, at least, if the ladies I've heard talking about your posters are to be believed it was. But this mask will mean terror to your enemies and freedom for you. If you'll just hold still, the fit must be precise."

Corvo didn't like Piero reaching for his head. It reminded him of other hands coming at him and the horrible pain that followed. But he managed to stop himself from jumping back entirely, although he did recoil sharply before he caught himself. "Hold still," Piero said again. "There. Can you see normally? Mmm... center lens out of alignment. There. Better now?"

The strange mask fit snugly, despite the uneven surface of Corvo's face, and the soft fabric wasn't horribly grating on the tender areas of skin left by the wounds, which was unexpected but welcome. The vision was a little strange, but as Piero adjusted things, it got better until it was as if Corvo wasn't looking through a mask hardly at all. When Piero was done, Corvo lifted a hand and felt the cold, smooth metal that was hiding his face from view. It was probably a bad thing that this skull-like visage was the preference, but Corvo was shamefully glad for the layer of protection. He already dreaded someone seeing beneath to what he now looked like. How would Emily react to his face now? He didn't dare think of it. After a bit more talking at him, Piero advised Corvo to get some sleep.

Corvo had to admit the idea was appealing. He was exhausted, and it wasn't as if he was at all used to even the basic comforts anymore. A night in a bed would be so incredible. Maybe his body wouldn't hurt so much after resting on a mattress.

Corvo realized he still broke into a cold sweat at the very thought of crossing the courtyard's open space as soon as he turned to face it, but he thought the fear wasn't as sharp as before. Although, maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. Corvo made his way back into the bar to look for a place to stay. Surely there was a free bed considering there were apparently not many people here.

On his search, Corvo ran into Pendleton's manservant Wallace, a redheaded girl named Cecelia, and a maid named Lydia. They seemed nice enough, but Corvo was sure they would be horrified if they saw his face. Especially Cecelia, as she seemed a bit meek. Finally, Corvo found a bed at the very top of the bar that seemed good enough, and nobody was apparently using it. It even had clean sheets, which was such a luxury Corvo almost wasn't sure how to process.

He collapsed onto the bed and almost immediately fell asleep. His dreams were strange and upsetting. The Outsider visited him and spoke in riddles about fate and choices, runes and magic. He saw strange flashes of things and people frozen in time and floating through nothing. Water flowed up, and fish circled in the air. A bizarre mechanical heart with a voice that made Corvo want to cry was there guiding him through floating platforms.

Corvo was sure that it was all imagined. But then he woke up and saw that on his hand was a strange tattoo that had definitely not been there before. Corvo stared at it for a good several moments. How had that gotten there? He hadn't agreed to anything. He would have definitely remembered asking for a big black mark on the back of his hand. Yet another unwanted mark upon him. Was no part of his body was truly his? Not his face. Not his hand. Not any of the skin that had been cut and torn and burned under Burrow's command. Had he no say at all? Ever?

Corvo traced the lines with the fingers of his other hand. He didn't feel any mark, which was better than the scars all over his body, but the black lines didn't come off either. Perhaps he should find some gloves to hide that as well. He knew enough to know that the mark of the Outsider was a danger to display. He'd have to keep an eye out for a glove. It shouldn't be too hard, he didn't think. Even a single one would do.

Someone had been in while he slept, which was mildly terrifying. Corvo didn't usually sleep so deeply. Although he supposed this was an unusual circumstance as he'd been so bone weary. They had left fresh clothes, including a thick dark coat that appeared a lot like his Protector coat. Corvo immediately felt a bit better with the heavy fabric wrapped around him. A little more like himself.

He gathered up his clothes and found his way to the bathroom that he'd discovered while looking for a free bed the day before. Corvo hung the coat on the doorknob so that the thick fabric blocked the lock. He didn't really think that anyone would want to peek in at his horrifying body, but he also didn't feel comfortable taking that for granted. Corvo started the water but only filled the tub part of the way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub, Corvo started slowly but carefully cleaning the dirt and grime off himself. He had to refresh the water quickly, but it was hot and didn't smell like river brine. The 'tickler' the torturer preferred to use had left so many parallel scars over his body that it almost made it appear like a deliberate pattern. Some of the cuts were still oozing blood or fluid, but most had long since healed. Poorly but they had.

It was hard to find the balance between gentle enough to not hurt and strong enough to actually scrub himself clean. He refreshed the water in the tub yet again as he slowly moved up his legs. Once he got up by his thighs, he had to crouch in the mostly empty tub to avoid getting water all over the floor.

He had to change out the water three more times before he reached his head. Corvo hesitated for several moments before trying to carefully wash his hair without getting too much water on his face. They'd been 'kind enough' to keep the wounds on his face 'clean' by forcibly dunking him over and over. It had burned terribly, and he'd nearly drowned many times. Corvo couldn't bear the thought of his head being underwater if he could help it. He knew that he couldn't fully -his flight out of Coldridge had proved that, and Dunwall had plenty of waterways- but he would still rather avoid it if possible.

Just washing his hair made the water turn colors, and Corvo changed it yet again. Another wash of his hair and he was confident that he'd greatly improved his overall state. He didn't smell anymore, at the very least. Corvo got out of the tub and grabbed a washcloth, and, very carefully, he washed his face with the cloth and fresh hot water. He couldn't scrub his face without pain, so he didn't, but that meant it took longer as he was reduced to dabs and gentle strokes.

Oddly enough, there wasn't much in the way of medical supplies in the bathroom. Maybe because of that 'desperate situation' that Piero had hinted at before. But, Corvo did find some bandages, which he used to wrap the injuries that hadn't fully healed yet. His fresh burn on his jaw was particularly troublesome, but he did the best he could before getting dressed in his new clothes. He put the mask back on, followed by his coat.

It took a long time for him to wash up, but he spotted Lydia and Cecelia talking when he came back out. Something about Samuel and how he didn't like to sleep inside. "Oh, Corvo. I left some food out for you downstairs," Lydia said when she spotted him. "It's not much, but it should still be hot." Corvo didn't know if he could handle 'hot,' but he _was_ starved, so he would cope as best he could.

Down in the main room of the bar, Corvo met with Havelock. Havelock spoke of killing Campbell. Said something about saving an Overseer named Martin while he was at it. And then he noticed the new blemish on Corvo's skin. "Say, that's an interesting tattoo on your hand. Saw a lot of that in the navy, but nothing quite like yours..." Corvo shifted his hand more behind his thigh. Havelock sounded thoughtful, and Corvo did not need anyone taking notice of the mark.

He grabbed the plate that was left on the bar. It was only lightly steaming, thankfully. Looking around, Corvo was immediately dismayed to see that there were so many doors in the bar, and not a single seat was in a defensible corner. Plenty of escape routes, but he could also be surrounded too easily. Corvo found the booth furthest from where anyone might see him -the one most shadowed and out of the path of most people- and hunched low to eat. Without a tongue and a very damaged throat, Corvo couldn't eat most of what he'd been provided but tried his best. He kept his head low and let his hair fall to obscure his face as much as it could, and still, he felt painfully exposed. He tried but couldn't really relax.

Corvo heard a shocked gasp at one point but didn't dare look up to see who had spotted him or give them a better view of his nightmare of a face. He was painfully aware of where she was standing in relation to himself, however. Corvo hunched down further and tried to shift to better hide. He tore a tiny piece of bread off to eat. Even after being forced to eat slowly due to his injuries, Corvo's stomach protested with only a little in it, and he stopped before he got sick. He put his mask back on before he lifted his head. He could hear whispers and tried to ignore them as best he could.

On his way out to where Samuel would be waiting, he was interrupted by another young woman. Callista, she said her name was. And she asked for the safety of her Uncle Geoff Curnow. Corvo remembered the man. They'd gotten along well enough, and he'd seemed decent. Corvo figured it wouldn't be hard to keep an eye out for one Guard Captain. Of course, Corvo was a little thrown when Callista said he was now an assassin.

Corvo knew that was what Havelock wanted, and it was his intention of killing the men who had ruined everything. But he hadn't actually killed anyone yet... he found he didn't like being called an assassin at all. It felt wrong. He wasn't entirely sure why but it did. Perhaps because they had been calling him an assassin already for months. That he'd killed Jessamine when he didn't.

Luckily, by the time Samuel brought them up to Clavering Boulevard, it was dark. It eased some of Corvo's discomfort, although the rain was a bit annoying. Corvo kept to the shadows on the edges of the streets or up high where people never looked. He could do what he had to do and escape all notice, which was especially good as his body felt weak and shaky. After six months of torture in prison, he was no longer the 'whirlwind' that the one guard had called him. More like an intermittent breeze.

His new strange ability to transport himself across open gaps helped him immensely to stay out of sight, although he quickly found if he used it too much in too short a time, he felt such white-hot, intense pain that he wanted to collapse in a heap. However, Piero's remedies seemed to help with that, so Corvo was even more thankful to the man than initially. Not only had Piero given him away to hide his ghastly appearance, but he made a potion that helped him keep out of tight situations.

When he finally made his way to Holger Square, it was quite a bit later, but Corvo had been sure to take his time. Plus, he found his own body betraying him at points. Crossing under bright lights, even for just a few brief moments, even when there was nobody around, felt like an impossibly huge risk. Just walking up behind the Overseer that was taunting Martin had been near panic-inducing. The courtyard was wide open, and they were positioned right in the middle.

Corvo freed Martin before continuing inside. Once he was inside, it didn't take too long for Corvo to find the Heretic's Brand and his mind immediately latched on. Corvo hadn't wanted to be an assassin, but Campbell couldn't be allowed to just walk free either. After all that he'd done, not the least of which was burning and scarring Corvo's face, giving the man his own gruesome burn seemed appropriately poetic.

So, Corvo spilled the poisoned wine and then followed Campbell down to his secret room with Curnow. Choking Campbell unconscious was hard. Corvo wasn't as strong as he used to be, and his arm trembled with the effort, but he managed it. Curnow, at least, seemed to understand what had happened and swore to keep the incident to himself before leaving.

Of course, then Corvo had to lug the unconscious Campbell up several flights of stairs. It was an exhausting prospect, but he made it one step at a time. Or one Blink at a time if that was what was easier, which it often was.

Corvo eyed the Heretic Brand after dropping the High Overseer in the interrogation chair. It didn't look hot, but the instructions hadn't made any mention of external heating being required. Corvo raised a hand and held it close to the end of the brand. It was indeed emitting heat despite it looking cold. And the book he'd found said something about chemicals that were emitted too. Really, it was perfect for returning Corvo's injuries onto Campbell.

He made sure to dig the brand in deep across Campbell's face. It sizzled, and Campbell screamed, but Corvo wasn't prepared for the way his mind immediately snapped back. His face was on fire, and he stumbled over his own feet. Distantly he heard the clatter of the branding iron, but Corvo was far more concerned with the images flashing before his eyes. The thick liquid that turned to fire just seconds after it landed on him.

Everything burned, and Corvo was fighting the urge to heave. He couldn't breathe, and yet he could smell the way his flesh was boiling. Somehow he managed to claw off his mask just in time. His stomach acid seared his already damaged throat as he vomited onto the ground. Tears streamed from his eyes as he continued to dry heave and trembled violently.

He held himself so tight it hurt, and he could feel the tongue he no longer had being scalded. The screams echoed in his mind, and his face felt like it was melting off. But slowly, a while after the smell from Campbell's brand had faded, Corvo was able to bring himself back. He was still trembling, and he'd somehow ended up in the corner of the room, but he had remained undiscovered. He supposed that was because he'd closed the doors before branding Campbell.

With a trembling hand, Corvo unscrewed the lid of one of Piero's elixirs. A little went to rinse his mouth out. Corvo couldn't taste anything, but he didn't want to have his sick still there. He spat the liquid back out and then slowly sipped down the rest of the elixir. It helped cool the fire down his throat and the way his newer skin on his face continued to tingle unpleasantly.

Corvo glanced at Campbell again, slumped in the chair, and rendered insensate. Though the visceral reaction to branding the man had been unpleasant, Corvo had to admit he was a bit vindictively pleased to see the man's face scarred so horribly, although it wasn't as strong a feeling as he assumed it would be. Corvo put his mask back on and shakily got to his feet. He still felt unsteady, but he thought he could make it out so long as he took his time.

He carefully made his way through the offices to the Abbey's backyard, but Corvo was fine with being patient. No good had ever come of rushing things. And it gave him time to shake off the remainder of his... episode in the interrogation room. Corvo was a little bit ashamed of his reaction. He was a soldier. He'd seen worse. His own face came to mind instantly. So, he shouldn't have collapsed into a sobbing wreck like that. At least nobody was around to see it.

As he stepped out into the yard to continue his trip to the water, Corvo did notice, way up high, a figure disappear in a plume of black smoke. He'd almost missed it but he was always scanning his surroundings. The strange smoky plume was just like what those assassins had done in the gazebo that day. He didn't know for sure it was them or even if they were here for any particular reason, but it sent a shiver down his spine. Corvo did the best he could to shake it off and slipped through the yard to reach the docks.

"Corvo," Samuel greeted as he came closer. "I was starting to get worried. You were in there longer than I thought you'd be." Corvo couldn't respond to that verbally, so he shrugged instead. "Any trouble?" Samuel asked.

Corvo shook his head. He might have taken a while, but not a single Overseer had even spotted him. He was sure of it. Corvo hunched down in the boat and wrapped his arms around his legs. It was thankfully still dark out, but he felt oddly raw after everything he'd done. Not to mention tired. Samuel began talking again. He stayed on light, unimportant chatter that Corvo didn't need to think about or respond to. Once again, tension Corvo hadn't been aware of holding started to ease.

Once he relaxed, the shaking came back. That was frustrating, but Corvo was too tired to try and get control of it. Samuel either didn't notice or didn't care to remark on it. Corvo tucked his head down and let the sounds of Samuel's story and the water breaking on the hull of the Amaranth distract and soothe him. It was so much better than the moans of pain and the clanging of cell doors that he had grown used to.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just kept going after finishing last chapter... 
> 
> Ah, and this is based sort of on a 'Mostly Flesh and Steel' run. ...for now. That will change once we get further off the rails.

When Samuel pulled up to the Hound Pits again, it was mid-morning, and the sun was bright in the sky. It made Corvo balk just like it had the first time. He had to cross so much space under such bright light. Being in the open was far too dangerous. But waiting in the boat wasn't acceptable either. He had to make a choice, but both options were terrible. He was utterly frozen from the impossibility. "Corvo," Samuel called gently. "I know ya don't like the open here by the boat, but I promise it's safe." Corvo didn't know how Samuel had picked up on that so quickly, but he realized that he was probably right. It made sense. The only people here were allies, but Corvo couldn't shake the bone-deep terror so quickly.

Corvo closed his eyes and forced several slow breaths through his lungs. It wasn't that far, he reminded himself. A dozen feet or so at most before he would reach the stairs. He managed it the day before, and he could do it again. Corvo clenched his marked hand. Samuel said again that it was alright, and Corvo appreciated his attempt, although it didn't help much.

Corvo felt his hands trembling and the sweat rolling down from his temple, but he forced himself to step out of the boat. As soon as he did, Callista came running over -which made Corvo shrink back- and thanked him for saving her Uncle. Corvo nodded and took the reward Callista offered without really listening. He was far too focused on getting away so that he could be out of the vulnerable open.

As soon as he got to the top of the short flight of stairs, Corvo spotted Havelock and Pendleton. Standing right out in the open and under the bright sun like lunatics. Corvo felt himself choke on nothing. Samuel nodded to him, and Corvo hurried over. He had to get things over with.

They were all happy to see him, congratulating him and talking about _nothing_ that warranted having this conversation in such a void-damned vulnerable spot. Corvo wasn't listening to them so much as continually scanning the area and finding himself wound tighter and tighter. And still, they were blabbering on.

Finally, they suggested Corvo go get rest, which he was more than happy to agree with, not in the least because it got him out of the open courtyard and blazing sunlight. Corvo fled inside the bar and nearly collapsed as soon as he got into the safe, cool darkness. He was still trembling as he leaned, heaving for air, against the wall. Corvo closed his eyes to try and slow his breathing while his heart was pounding in his chest so hard that he thought it would fly straight out of his ribcage.

"Sir?"

Corvo jumped at the tentative voice and whipped around. Cecelia was there and looked taken aback. "Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. I just... Lydia asked me to put some food aside for you. If you were hungry, I could bring it over?" she suggested.

Eating wasn't high on his list of priorities right then. He was still uneasy from standing out in the open so long. He felt sick to his stomach. But he hadn't eaten enough in prison nor since he'd been broken out, so he really should despite lack of enthusiasm. So, he nodded.

Cecelia brought him a plate, and Corvo was even more dismayed to see tough meat and hard bread. He could tear the meal into tiny chunks, but that would be so much work, and he might still have to chew. How was he supposed to regain his strength when he could barely consume anything? "Is everything alright?" Cecelia asked. "Is... is it not to your liking, sir?"

Corvo was at a loss to how to answer honestly without doing something terribly upsetting. So, he shook his head and took the plate. He found the same spot he had before in the dark corner of a distant booth and started on the frustrating task of cutting the piece of meat into small enough shreds that he wouldn't choke. His throat would struggle if he couldn't get it minced properly, and he couldn't chew very well without a tongue.

He didn't bother taking the mask off as he cut the meat smaller and smaller. Corvo hadn't cut pieces up so small since Emily was just starting solid food. He was still working a while later when Lydia walked by and noticed. Corvo had been keeping an eye on her progress through the bar and nearly cringed when she stopped. "Is everything alright, Corvo?" she asked. "I know the quality is a bit less than you're used to at the Palace, but I promise it tastes better than it looks."

Corvo paused in cutting up his food and shook his head. There wasn't much that could be done. A lost tongue didn't have a fix. "Are you sure?" Lydia pressed. Corvo nodded and poked at his food again.

Lydia didn't immediately walk away but kept looking at the food on the plate and then back at Corvo. He didn't like the careful scrutiny and tried to shrink back further into the shadows of the booth. "If you'll forgive me, sir, they didn't tell us much about what you went through before arriving... is- I'm not sure how to ask this... have you maybe injured your throat?"

That wasn't entirely right but not entirely wrong either, so Corvo nodded. Lydia relaxed and smiled. "Ah, I see. Well, I have just the thing. There's a soup I've been making for tomorrow. I usually let it sit overnight to really let the flavors meld, but it should still be good if you want some tonight. It'll be a lot easier for you to eat, that's for sure."

Corvo almost sagged in relief and nodded. In Coldridge, they'd just soaked his food and then mashed everything into one unappetizing slurry, but he'd been able to eat it. An actual soup would be a blessing. Lydia smiled. "Then I'll be out in just a minute."

Corvo scanned the inside of the bar. Pendelton and Havelock were having some conversation on the far side, and he could hear Cecelia sweeping by the stairs, although he couldn't see her. There was nobody behind him, and not a single person was even looking his way. Although that could change at any moment, he knew.

Lydia returned shortly with a bowl of something steaming. "Here you go, Corvo. This should be easier. I'm sorry that I didn't realize sooner."

Corvo waved away her apology. He didn't care about the misunderstanding, although it had been awkward, and just carefully took the bowl from her. Lydia told him to enjoy and then left the main dining area again. He heard her asking Cecelia about laundry in the other room.

The soup was so much easier to eat it almost made him cry. It was a little too hot for his tender throat, but Corvo didn't care. He swore he could actually feel it land in his pitifully empty stomach. He still couldn't eat a whole lot as his stomach wasn't used to being filled, but he did his best to eat as much as he felt he could.

Corvo was aware of Havelock making his way across the bar and quickly noted the easiest escape. Luckily, nobody was blocking his path to the door. Corvo could flee that way, although it would lead outside into the bright light. He cringed at the very idea. "Corvo."

He didn't flinch, but he was intensely uncomfortable as Havelock came to stand beside him. Corvo looked up while he kept his face angled as far away as possible. "Corvo, I'm afraid I need to ask you something," Havelock said. "I thought you were just quiet before, but seeing you eat- Well... I've seen a man without a tongue before. In the navy. Pirates do that sort of thing sometimes."

Corvo didn't lift his head. There wasn't actually a question in there. He didn't like the intense gaze Havelock was giving him. Finally, he gave a short nod since the Admiral seemed to be waiting for a response to his not question. Havelock nodded. "I see. That is unfortunate. I'll let Lydia know to continue providing you with an... easier diet." Corvo looked away. Distantly, he wondered what a blush looked like on his twisted skin. Probably made it look worse.

"Also... it might be best if you take your meals in your room from now on," Havelock said. Corvo glanced back up at the Admiral at that. "You understand, I'm sure. Better for everyone if you had your privacy. I'll tell Lydia to deliver you a tray in the morning." Corvo could barely process the statement before Havelock gave a self-satisfied nod and left to go back to where Pendleton was drinking a large glass of wine.

Corvo felt his face burning like it was freshly splashed with acid. He snatched up his mask and covered himself again. Stupid of him, really, to even try being down here. Havelock was right. Corvo's face most likely made them all nauseous. Why would they want him around while they were trying to eat?

Corvo's own meal felt like lead sitting in his stomach as he got up and hurried up the stairs. He wasn't even fully aware of what he was doing or going. Suddenly, he was bent over the toilet in the bathroom, expelling everything he had just managed to eat. Tears flowed in crooked paths down his face as he coughed and gagged on his own sick. He knew better. He did. The guards had made it very clear how stomach-churning his appearance was. He just hadn't been thinking. For some reason, Corvo assumed things he shouldn't have and made everyone uncomfortable.

His stomach was still churning, but Corvo ignored it as best he could. He rinsed his mouth out and drank from the faucet until the uneasy boiling feeling of pure acid in his already delicate stomach calmed. Corvo felt bad for wasting the food Lydia had gone out of her way to give him. It was all so stupid of him. He should have found a way to ask.

Corvo carefully cleaned off his face and replaced his mask. With that done, he made his way to the attic. He couldn't possibly ask Lydia for anything else to eat after wasting her efforts the first time. It was far from the first time he'd gone to bed hungry. He would do better in the morning. He swore he would.

Sleeping with the mask on was uncomfortable, but Corvo couldn't possibly risk someone coming in and seeing him without it. So, he tried to cushion his head as best he could with his arms like he'd done in Coldridge on the stone slab that was his bed. That, combined with his dreams that were already unpleasant, led to Corvo not sleeping well at all.

He was instantly awake and had his sword out when he heard a knock on the door. "Corvo? I've brought your breakfast," Lydia called. "Admiral Havelock said you would be taking your meals here from now on."

Corvo took a moment and several slow breaths to gain control of himself before getting up. He opened the door for Lydia, and she brought in something that looked like porridge. She gave Corvo a smile and put the tray on the nearby desk. "There you go. I hope you enjoy. Just come find me if you need anything."

Corvo nodded and closed the door after Lydia left. He let the porridge cool for a few moments before taking off his mask, putting it on the dusty desk, and starting to eat. Corvo had to admit it was less stressful to eat while relegated to the attic. Nobody was around to be offended by him or witness him struggling to swallow if he took too large a spoonful. The lantern near him was making a faint crackling sound, but that was the only noise in the room. Despite the grime on the windows, Corvo could tell that the sun was out again, which was a little unsettling. How had he slept so long? He never used to be able to sleep for longer than six or eight hours at a time. Then again, he was still so tired from Coldridge. Maybe it made sense.

Corvo drank the coffee he'd been provided with the porridge -wishing he could actually taste it- and put on his mask again. After delivering the dishes back down to the bar, he went to wash up in the bathroom. It didn't take as long as it had before but still longer than he would have taken prior to his time in Coldridge. Fed and clean, Corvo supposed he should find Havelock.

Aggravatingly, Havelock wasn't anywhere in the bar. Corvo had to very reluctantly go outside to continue his search. He was glad his breakfast had a chance to settle as he stepped out into the sunlight. Why was it always so bright? It didn't seem normal for Dunwall. Or was he just that used to the dark of Coldridge?

Havelock and Pendleton were examining the stairs to the basement, and when Corvo came to stand by them, Havelock explained there were likely Weepers in the sewers. The last place Corvo wanted to go wandering was another stinking wet sewer. Still, Havelock seemed to think it was Corvo's job to investigate. Why he couldn't do it, Corvo had no idea, but he also didn't feel like trying to communicate that without a tongue.

Sure enough, when Corvo went down, there were two Weepers. A few sleep darts from Piero, and they were taken care of quickly enough. Nothing that truly required Corvo's personal attention. But, it was handled, and when Corvo came out of the sewers again, Cecelia told him Martin had arrived.

Perhaps there was some progress in something important. Like finding Emily. Corvo was quick to get inside the bar again and instantly spotted Havelock with Martin. "Corvo! I trust you remember Martin. An Overseer before and perhaps again someday soon," Havelock said as Corvo approached.

"I owe you thanks for my rescue," Martin said.

"Indeed, you've given us a glimmer of hope, Corvo, because we've gotten what we wanted from Campbell's journal. You've done it! We know where Emily Kaldwin is being held," Havelock said.

Corvo perked up immediately. They did? They'd found his Emily? Why didn't they come get him as soon as Martin arrived then? Wasting time in damned sewers rather than getting Emily back! Really.

"The Golden Cat, of all places. A bathhouse for aristocrats. Little better than a cursed brothel," Martin said. Corvo's heart plummeted at that. They were keeping Emily someplace like that? She was just a little girl. How could they possibly?

Corvo was only half listening as Havelock went on to explain that Pendleton's brothers, the very unpleasant Morgan and Custis, were the ones keeping Emily there. Corvo had never liked the twins, and he was sure the feeling was mutual. Corvo had tossed them out of a state dinner once, after all. He should have tossed them into the Wrenhaven for the hagfish, apparently.

After a moment, Corvo realized Havelock had walked away, and Martin was saying that the third Pendleton brother would give further instructions. Then Martin shifted. "... the mark on the back of your hand -are you studying the forbidden arts, Corvo?" Corvo tucked his hand back behind him. Drat, that thing. All the more reason to hate that it had been slapped on him without his say. There was a reason he'd been ignoring the mark and runes that he discovered as much as he could. "Nevermind. We're all friends here," Martin said, although Corvo wasn't sure how sincere he was about that. Martin was very hard to get an accurate read on from how short a time Corvo had known him. "Anyway, you should go on and meet with Pendleton."

Corvo was only too glad to escape that situation. Corvo managed to track Pendleton down to where he was waiting by the stairs to Samuel's boat. Why did these people continually want to speak with him outside? What was the point of having an entire bar to hide in if they had these conversations out in the open where everyone could see?

Pendleton blabbered on about very little as Corvo kept scanning the nearby balconies, roofs, and windows. He swore there was someone or several watching them. All the more reason to talk _inside_. Pendleton said he'd tried to get his brothers to stop supporting Burrows and how they had accused people of the plague that didn't have it and other things that Corvo found utterly unhelpful, but then he finally finished.

A large part of Corvo wanted to wait for night to fall, but an even bigger part needed to find Emily and bring her to safety. So, despite it being horribly bright out, he went to the boat. He pushed down the terror clawing at him and ignored the internal voices that said he was walking into a trap. He wasn't. He was going to save Emily. Nothing -not locked doors or guards or his own unfounded terror- was going to stand in his way now that he knew where she was.

Of course, once Samuel pulled up to the same place as he had before, it was a lot harder to step out. The brightness of the sun on the shore was so terribly uncomfortable. Corvo reminded himself of what was at stake and ignored his shaking hands and the sweat along his skin. If he just kept moving, he should be fine. He hoped.

Samuel told him there was an additional Watchtower, which would make things more difficult but not impossible. So, Corvo tugged the hood of his thick coat down a little further and then focused only on where he wanted to go. Not on how exposed he felt or how he stuck out like a sore thumb with his dark clothes in broad daylight.

Since Pendleton -despite all his rambling- had been no help in figuring out how to get into the Golden Cat, Corvo felt like he had no choice but to take Samuel's suggestion and see if Slackjaw had any ideas. Corvo didn't particularly want to work with the Bottle Street Gang leader, but he needed a way in. The Golden Cat was sure to have plenty of guards. And it was, as Corvo was still overly aware, broad daylight. He cursed his own impatience in his mind. He was supposed to be a better strategist than this—someone who could wait for better opportunities and not rush off half-cocked.

But this was Emily, and he hadn't seen her in six months. He _needed_ to get to her as soon as possible. As Corvo made his way through the streets, using as many shadows as he could, the announcements came on to ensure everyone knew that Campbell had been branded. Not only was Campbell not a citizen of Dunwall anymore, but nobody could offer him help. It was satisfying.

Corvo couldn't stay well hidden during the day, so it wasn't shocking that a member of Bottle Street noticed him. Surprisingly though, they didn't attack on sight but said that Slackjaw was looking for _him_ for some reason. Corvo couldn't imagine why, but it worked in his favor.

The old Whiskey Distillery was full of thugs and trash, which was about what Corvo expected. He got a few curious looks, but all the ruffians left him alone. It took him a little while to find Slackjaw but Corvo did. The man said he needed someone to find one of his missing men, and in return, he'd give a way into the Golden Cat. Corvo was a little surprised that Slackjaw had guessed so easily who Corvo was trying to get at, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Slackjaw sent his man to Doctor Galvani's, so that was where Corvo had to go. He was a little miffed at having to do so, seeing how it would delay him in getting to Emily, but trying to walk boldly down the street to the Golden Cat was simply not an option.

Luckily, Crowley, the man Slackjaw was looking for, was relatively easy to find. Dead and sprawled out on a table in Galvani's house. He left an audiograph recording and note that Corvo swiped before the guards could spot him. Travelling through the streets was panic-inducing every second for Corvo. Even taking the roofs didn't help entirely.

On his way back to the distillery, Corvo spotted several men wearing Whaler coats and masks. They seemed to be staking out the area behind the house of Bunting -the art dealer- for some reason. Corvo felt his panic spiking quickly and had to duck behind another roof to get a hold of himself.

What were they doing here? What were they looking for? Corvo's hands shook as he pressed deeper into the shadow he'd found. He should kill them. Send a message to Daud. He could probably do it if he timed his attacks right. A tremor shook his whole body, and his throat seized up.

No. No, he wasn't a killer. He had sworn as they had first demanded he falsely confess to killing Jessamine that Corvo wouldn't allow them to turn him into a murderer. He might look like a monster, but he wouldn't become one. But, that still left him with a problem of three Whalers scattered just on the other side of the roof.

Corvo swallowed painfully and tried to think. He needed to get by the assassins, and he wasn't sure enough of his condition to try and take them on in a straight fight. At least, not three of them. Taking several breaths to ground himself, Corvo peered over the roof and figured out which one would be the easiest target to start with. Once he decided, he moved. So long as he was careful, he should be able to remove them all.

Finally, Corvo managed to get back to Slackjaw. After listening to the audiograph containing Crowley's literal last words, the gang leader turned back to Corvo. "So, Crowley's dead. Too bad. He was one of my best men. Still, you and I had a deal, and Slackjaw never goes back on a deal. Take this key. It ain't for the Golden Cat. No. This key's for The Captain's Chair, a hotel abandoned since the plague gutted this part o' town. Take the stairs to the top. You can use the roof to get into the Golden Cat brothel."

Corvo took the key that was offered to him and eyed it for a moment before tucking it away in a pocket. Much better than going down a brightly lit street, that was for sure. "See that? Slackjaw keeps a bargain, just as good as the men who run the city. Maybe a little better. You think about that," Slackjaw said. Corvo wasn't sure which men Slackjaw was referring to. The men in parliament or the Lord Regent or even both. Any option could work.

"Now, maybe we can help each other out again," Slackjaw said. "I could get rid of the Pendletons for you, quiet-like and without killin' 'em. But you gotta do something for me in return."

The idea of not killing the Pendletons was appealing. Corvo still didn't like being called an assassin. He refused to become that. To be like _them_. So, he nodded. "The Cat's having a big reopening tonight, lot of money clients. Including an arts dealer name of Bunting. He's got particular tastes, or so I've been told by some of the ladies. Got some pretty fancy stuff locked away at his place. And the only thing preventing me from nabbing all that loot is the combination to his safe. Of course, the Pendletons have been camped out there for months too. Not sure why. So that means a lot of the City Watch and other soldier types. Bring me that combination, my masked friend, and then I take care of the Pendleton brothers. Just like that. You ain't never even gotta touch 'em. And I promise, I won't kill 'em, and no one'll ever see them again. Now, if that ain't a deal, Slackjaw don't know what is."

It was a good deal. Only needing to find one man before getting Emily out would be much better than traipsing over the entire brothel for those slimy twins. Plus, perhaps it was naive, but Corvo actually trusted Slackjaw when he said he wouldn't kill the men. Slackjaw seemed like a businessman above all, and a profitable business usually meant following through with one's deals.

So, Corvo made his way back out of the distillery and carefully towards the Captain's Chair hotel. It was still too bright, and some guards could easily spot him if they just looked around a little. Corvo had to pause several times in dark corners to try and regain his calm. This should not be so hard. It was just daylight and a street. But it would be so easy for someone to spot him... to set up an ambush... there were so many places that an enemy could be waiting.

He had a slight detour to help a lady being accosted by a few Watch officers. Corvo was disgusted that men with their jobs would behave that way, and it was well worth the sleep darts it had taken to stop them from doing something so despicable. Once Emily was on the throne, Corvo would have to clean house and make sure that such things never happened again. The woman insisted on giving Corvo her key to Bunting's house before she left the alley to return to her baby.

Finally, Corvo managed to get past the guards, Walls of Light, and Watchtowers and slipped into the Captain's Chair. Just like Slackjaw said, it appeared as if the hotel had been empty for a while. It was filled with trash, graffiti, and rats. But it was blessedly dark inside, and Corvo felt some of the tension in him ease. He took a few minutes to just crouch down by a wall and gather himself. The air was stale, but he actually _could_ breathe, which was an improvement.

Corvo had never actually been to the Golden Cat. No reason to do so, but it was a grand building with unusual architecture for Dunwall. Not as much brick and metal and more curves. The sun made the white of the building feel blinding, but Corvo hoped that inside was as dimly lit as the word 'brothel' brought to mind.

He spotted an open window that he could reach and instantly felt better. If Corvo could keep up high and out of the way, it was less likely that anyone would spot him. Corvo found his way into the Madam's office. He picked her pocket for her key, figuring he'd definitely need it in his search. She was so busy looking over some papers that she didn't even notice. On her desk was a ledger that told Corvo precisely where Bunting was but not where Emily was. So, he began to search.

It was doubtful that they would keep Emily hostage in any room a client could wander into, so Corvo started searching the girls' private chambers. It was in the second one that he found her. Corvo froze as Emily crawled out from behind a toppled table. "Who are you? Why are you wearing that mask?" Corvo wished he could say. Or show her the face she would be expecting. But he couldn't. He had neither of those things. Tears stung at his eyes, and despite how ruined his throat and mouth were, he tried to speak. The noises that came out were a garbled, discordant mess.

Emily recoiled a little bit. "Who are you? You'd better tell me," she said. She made a fair attempt at being stern, but her voice trembled a little. More tears made his vision blurry. He _couldn't_ tell her. He couldn't say anything.

He crouched down low and extended a hand, hoping that somehow she'd pick up on his body language. He knew it was a long shot, but he had to do something. Emily, the smart girl she was, didn't just come to someone she didn't recognize. "Are you one of that nasty Spymaster's men?" she asked, suspicion heavy in her voice.

His protest was another garbled mess, and he shook his head frantically. He would never be working for Burrows. Corvo couldn't have her thinking that. More tears were starting to escape his eyes. "If you're not working for him... who are you?"

Corvo was at an utter loss. How was he supposed to save Emily if he couldn't even talk to her? He couldn't show his disfigurement. It was nightmarish, and she wouldn't recognize it anyway. Carefully, he edged closer and pointed at the paper-strewn floor near where Emily was standing. Emily glanced at the papers by her feet and then Corvo. "The paper?"

Corvo nodded and gestured for her to send some over. She clearly didn't trust him, and that hurt so terribly. He thought someone had jabbed a red hot poker straight between his ribs to dig into his heart and _twist_. Emily eyed him another moment and then gently slid a paper over to him, followed by a stick of colored wax.

His hand was shaking when he grabbed for the wax. He wanted so badly to take her into his arms. But she would be terrified if some masked stranger lunged for her, and justifiably so. Corvo wrote his name on the paper and turned it so that she could see. Emily was still distrustful as she leaned closer to read what he wrote.

Her eyes went wide when she did. "Corvo? But- but they said- they told me Corvo was- his head chopped off, in prison. Dead. Like... like mother. Corvo's not dead?" she asked, finally rushing forward to grab his sleeve.

His heart was being mashed under someone's foot. Each beat was like a hammer slamming nails into it, but he choked back his sobs and nodded. Of course, she wouldn't think he was him. If he had his face still, he'd have immediately shed the mask and shown her. "He's not dead," Emily said. "And he sent you to find me?"

Without thinking, Corvo tried to respond, but it came out a painful gurgle. Emily started to pull away from him by a few steps. He couldn't stop himself from grabbing her hand to keep her near. It was the wrong move as she immediately put her guard up. "If Corvo really sent you, he must have told you the password," Emily said with a challenge in her voice.

Corvo smiled through his tears. The motion pulled oddly at his skin, but he couldn't help it. His clever girl. She'd remembered. It felt like ages ago that they had set up a 'password' for if Corvo ever had to send someone to find her in place of himself. He'd almost forgotten about it himself, but his Emily remembered. He was so proud of her.

He retook the wax stick and put it to paper. 'Sea Dragon' he wrote. Emily was watching him write with suspicion, but once she read the word, her eyes went huge. She turned back to him. "Corvo did send you!"

He choked on nothing and nodded. He wanted to tell her that it was _him_ not some faceless stranger. But he couldn't terrify her that way. Emily brightened. "I knew he wasn't dead! I knew it! Alright, I'll go with you. I have a plan. I almost got away twice." Corvo felt himself smile again. She was so smart...

"There's a special door to come and go, for special people. I'll show you. And if anyone tries to stop us, you can fight them," she said confidently. Corvo felt a pang. He couldn't fight as well as he used to. He hadn't had the time necessary to recover that strength. He would just have to hope they didn't come across anyone. She went into the hall and pointed. "It's this way."

Corvo followed her immediately down several flights of stairs to a back door. Emily, having taken off first, reached it before Corvo could. "The door is locked! Unlock it so we can get away from this place," she said. Luckily, the Madam's key worked without issue. "This place is on the river. So, you must have come by boat. I'll wait for you near it. I remember the way, don't worry about me."

Corvo shook his head. He would always worry about her. That came to him as naturally as breathing did, and nothing she said would change that. He did still have to find Bunting, but the thought of having her wander the streets of Dunwall without him made him uneasy. Before he could figure out a way to tell her to just wait for him there, she was out the door and running down the street. Corvo mentally cursed. He should have realized she'd do that. She got her headstrong nature from him and Jessamine both. He liked to think that Emily wouldn't have done that if she knew it was him, but he somehow doubted that. Corvo shouldn't have unlocked the door...

He'd just have to find Bunting and finish up his business here quickly. It shouldn't take too long, he didn't think. Since the Madam had been so nice to write down where Bunting was, he started finding his way there. Luckily, there were plenty of dark secret corners for him to hide it, and the guards didn't seem to be taking their jobs seriously. One was even passed out drunk in a chair.

Corvo found Bunting strapped to some electrical chair contraption. He just started talking as soon as Corvo came in, clearly expecting a prostitute and very eager. There didn't seem to be a way to question him normally, especially with Corvo's injuries, so he steeled himself away. Corvo flicked the switch, and he started blabbering about his crooked business practice. It was unpleasant, and Corvo couldn't actually watch as the man spasmed in the chair. He was feeling sick again and sweat soaked into his shirt under his coat. This was horrible, and he was taking very deliberate breaths to try and keep his cool. He had never been electrocuted in Coldridge, so it wasn't quite as visceral as Campbell's branding.

"Ah! Retribution, retribution! That was perfect, but it's all I can take for tonight. Call my servants. We're done," Bunting said.

Corvo felt like vomiting and felt blades against his back, but he needed that code. He took a few deep inhales to steady himself and flipped the switch again. His hand trembled as Bunting cried out. "We're done, I said! Retribution! Now let me out!"

He couldn't. This was too important. Corvo looked away and triggered another shock. He was shaking as Bunting screamed again. "What the-? Who is this? What do you want?"

Finally. Finally, he'd asked. Corvo reached over and drew on the back of Bunting's hand. S-A-F-E. Hopefully, the man wasn't too fried to be able to spell. Corvo had no idea how much damage this machine could cause. "The safe! Yes, of course! The combination is 879. Take anything you find. I think I felt my heart skip."

Corvo sighed and quickly left the room. Someone would come and release Bunting at some point, he knew. He'd paid to be put in that position after all. Corvo had no idea why anyone would want something like that. He still felt like he was going to pass out. The whole world looked more grey than normal, and his body was aching from wounds that had long since healed.

With the information he came for, Corvo made his way back to the door Emily had escaped out of. The VIP exit, apparently. He hurried after her. Maybe he could catch up if he moved fast enough.

Corvo exited into a tunnel, and to his shock, Granny Rags was there. He'd run into her before, although after dealing with the men trying to extort money from her, he'd taken care to avoid her further. She was still talking nonsense as Corvo went by. He was halfway through the tunnel when Corvo realized that if she was here, then Emily had to have run into her. His heart tried to escape his chest, but since there was no sign of Emily, he hoped that meant that Granny hadn't bothered his daughter on her way out.

He was able to get out onto the street and mentally cursed when he didn't see Emily anywhere. Hopefully, she had been telling the truth that she knew how to get to the boat. Corvo made his way back to the distillery as quickly as he could force himself to go. The bright streets were still a hindrance but brute-forced his way through the panic. He thought he might be having a heart attack from how out of control his pulse was. Corvo's vision felt narrowed to a small tunnel as he desperately tried to regain some control of the situation.

Slackjaw was thankfully not too deep in the distillery when Corvo got there. He was just inside the building. Slackjaw looked over as Corvo approached. Lacking any better way of sharing the information, Corvo just held up his fingers. Slackjaw didn't even bat an eye. "You brought me the numbers? I've been after this combination for months! If you ever need steady work, you come see me. Slackjaw knows a good man when he sees one."

Corvo didn't think he should take that as a compliment, all things considered. "It's only natural that you'd be curious about what I intend to do with the Pendletons," Slackjaw said before Corvo could ask. Honestly, he hadn't put too much thought into their fates. He doubted they'd thought about his much, after all. "See, them Pendleton's got these rock mines. Have hundreds of souls working down there, half a mile deep below ground. So, I'm gonna shave their heads, and cut out their tongues and put 'em in one of their own stinking mines! Then they gonna see life from a different angle."

Corvo felt his tongue ache like it was really there and nearly choked. It was definitely poetic, but Corvo was not capable of appreciating it at the moment. Slackjaw seemed done now that he'd shared his plan, so Corvo left. He felt in a daze and he could _taste_ again. It was only blood and fire, but he could taste it somehow.

He reached the boat, but he wasn't sure how and Corvo was relieved to see Emily standing there. She had made it. If he could, Corvo would scold her about running off without him, but it would have to wait until he could communicate and until he was feeling more like himself. "I met your friend Samuel. He's going to show me how to steer the boat," Emily said. "An old lady helped me find the way to the boat. She seemed a little strange, though." Corvo nearly felt panic overwhelm him again. So she _had_ run into Granny Rags! Luckily, it didn't sound like the crazy old bat had done anything too disturbing. That didn't solve the unease he felt about the old lady, though.

Emily eyed him with suspicion again, though he wasn't sure what he'd done to warrant that. "Samuel says that you _are_ Corvo... but why didn't you just say?" she asked. Her tone was clearly saddened. Corvo felt something tearing in his chest again. He'd hurt her with his own inabilities. He could tell from the look on her face. But, no matter how much he wanted to tell her he'd never willingly leave her in the dark, his voice was gone. He knelt down in front of her and only barely restrained himself from grabbing her up in a hug. A hug wouldn't help this, no matter how much he wished it would.

Samuel, thankfully, stepped in. "Miss Emily, your Ladyship, Corvo's still hurt from his time in prison, you see. He can't talk right now."

There was an awkward silence. "Then what about your mask?" Emily asked. "Why didn't you take that off?" It hurt. It hurt so much, and Corvo couldn't even answer. Even if he could speak, how was he supposed to tell Emily that he was a monster now?

Again, Samuel came to his rescue. Clearing his throat, he leaned halfway across the boat. "He's got some injuries on his face too, Miss Emily. I think he wasn't sure you'd recognize him... or might be upset."

Emily looked at Samuel and then back to Corvo. "I won't be upset, Corvo," Emily said, sounding hurt yet again. Why couldn't he avoid hurting her? He wanted so badly to do anything but that. "Can I see?" she asked, already reaching for his mask.

Corvo caught her hands against the metal. She was probably thinking of the times he cut himself shaving or got a black eye while sparring. Who could imagine what was really beneath his mask? He shook his head. Corvo couldn't subject her to that. "That might not be the best idea," Samuel said.

"Please, Corvo?" Emily asked. "I promise I won't be upset, but I want to see you..."

She might promise to not be upset, but Corvo knew better. How could anyone not be upset with seeing his face? Still, he was terrible at denying her anything. She was his Princess in every way. And... he supposed she would have to know at some point. Even though he would cover his face the rest of his life if he had to. Steeling himself as best as he could, Corvo slid his hands further back and unfastened the mask. He shook like a leaf as he allowed Emily to pull his mask and hands down.

He fixed his eyes on the collar of her shirt. He heard her gasp and the way she stiffened, and Corvo flinched and closed his eyes. Corvo didn't think he could take seeing the horror on her face too. He didn't realize tears were escaping until he felt her wiping them away. "Don't cry, Corvo..."

Corvo felt like shattering as he pulled her into a hug and buried his disgusting face in her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Corvo," Emily said, sounding near tears herself. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you upset." He shook his head slightly without lifting it. She had nothing to be sorry for. None of this was her fault.

She hugged him back, and he tightened his hold. He finally had her back, and she was safe. But she'd seen his horrible face. It was all too much. He couldn't possibly process it all when it was slamming into him at once.

After several minutes of just kneeling in the mud and hugging her, Corvo managed to lift his head just a little bit. He quickly put the mask back on, however. She didn't need to see that horror any more than she already had. Emily knew now that he wasn't exaggerating. "Samuel says the Hound Pits are nicer than here. Let's go," Emily said softly.

Corvo nodded and allowed Emily to climb into the boat first. He should probably sit on the bench like a normal person. To act properly in front of Emily, but Corvo just couldn't bring himself to sit up so high and become an obvious target. He sat in the bottom like he had for every trip so far, but this time he took Emily's hand in his.

Samuel cleared his throat. "Right. Let's go. If you see any strange ripples on the water, Miss Emily, you let me know, alright? That would be a big help."

Emily agreed. Corvo wondered if she realized Samuel was trying to distract her but couldn't bring himself to question it for more than a second. Either way, it was something for her to do while Corvo trembled in the bottom of the boat like a scared child. She shouldn't see him like this. He was the parent. He should be the strong one... but he couldn't stop the shakes either.

At least Samuel's voice was comforting. And now, occasionally, Emily would chime in. It felt like the trip was taking longer than before, but maybe Samuel wasn't going as fast with more people in the boat. Or maybe Corvo just couldn't keep time straight in his head. He wouldn't discount either idea. But, Corvo was glad that it took time. Because when he glanced up from his knees and spotted the Hound Pits, he realized that he had stopped quivering so badly.

Everyone seemed to have come out to greet Emily. That was probably proper, but Corvo couldn't find it in him to be happy. Why was this happening outside? Again? Callista stepped forward first. "Young lady Emily, I'm Callista. I'll be caring for you and schooling you while you're with us."

"Pleased to meet you," Emily said. She sounded just like she always did, which Corvo was very suspicious about. Jessamine had an innate skill at covering up her real feelings with a polite and casual tone, just like the one that Emily had just used. It worried Corvo to think that she was putting on a brave face. She shouldn't have to do that.

Corvo's eyes flicked over the surroundings. The sun hadn't set yet, and Emily was in _white_ like a damned beacon. Corvo realized he wasn't fully paying attention when Emily half turned to him. "I'll go with Callista, Corvo. I'll see you later." Corvo wanted to stop her, but he could only approve if she was leaving the wide-open space.

Havelock came up to him, and Corvo bit back his urge to run to the safety of some sort of _cover_. "You do not fail to impress. Armed with a blade, you've changed the course of the city forever, and with the Pendleton twins gone, our own Lord Pendleton will assume their votes in parliament. I need to speak to you soon, but for now, Lord Pendleton requests your attention."

Corvo managed to not pull his hair out but went to go see what Pendleton wanted. He also was outside in the wide-open where everyone and anyone could see him. Corvo hated that these loyalists couldn't seem to grasp the concept of rooms. Pendleton didn't even have anything important to say. Corvo could have heard all of what he had to say inside. Perhaps it was nice to know they'd never thought he killed Jessamine but was it necessary to tell him that in the middle of nowhere?

He needed to know that Emily was alright. He hadn't had nearly enough time with her. Six months separated them, and they'd only had a short boat ride where Corvo hadn't been himself at all. So, he went looking for her. During his search, he noticed his mattress was gone from his room. That was odd, but Lydia had said something about scrubbing the room, so maybe that was why it had been removed? To keep the mattress from getting wet?

Corvo put the mattress out of his mind and continued looking for Emily. It wasn't very hard to figure out where she was. Callista had taken her up to the room they'd set aside for her in the tower.

As Corvo approached the door, he heard what Emily was saying, "Callista, I don't want to look around right now."

"Of course. We can give you the tour later when you've rested."

"I was wondering, do you think my mother is really dead? I saw her get stabbed, but maybe she was still alive and got better. Is that possible?"

"I'm sorry, Emily. But no. She did not survive..."

"Oh... did you go to her funeral? Was it fancy and beautiful?" Corvo felt his heart clench. He had wondered that too.

"A train of carriages rode through the city. It was very beautiful. Flowers everywhere and thousands of people wept because they will miss her."

"I wish I could have seen it." So did Corvo.

"I'm sorry, dear," Callista said softly.

Corvo steeled himself and finished walking into the room. Emily was sitting down with a book in her lap. She looked up when Corvo came in, and she smiled. It was strained but there. "Corvo!"

Corvo slowly sat down beside her. He wished he could speak to her, but all he could do was wrap an arm around her. She leaned into him, and Corvo closed his eyes to just soak up the feeling of her safe in his arms finally. After so long. The fabric of his mask soaked up the tears that escaped as he held her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noticeably this is where we start to go off on distant territory yet unseen. Corvo does not immediately go off to Kaldwin's Bridge. I've always had a bit of an exasperation with how little time canonically takes place between the missions, so I'm going to give a bit of breathing room. I mean, really what are the chances that Sokolov is there in his house (where they say he only spends half his time) right then the second you get back with Emily and the very next day Lady Boyle is throwing a party?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mind me, just on a roll with this story currently. I love my angst and hurting my loved characters.

Having Emily nearby took an immense weight off Corvo's shoulders. She begged Corvo to stay with her at night, so he did. Admittedly, it wasn't the most comfortable arrangement as he slept in a chair beside her bed, but it was worth the ache in his spine the next morning when he could ease her nightmares.

Emily never asked to see under Corvo's mask again, which was a relief as well. She said she wasn't upset by it, that her nightmares didn't feature his new twisted skin and patchwork complexion, but he wasn't sure if he believed her. Why wouldn't such a thing feature in the nightmares that made her cry out and thrash in her bed? But Corvo didn't press and focused on comforting her as best he could.

Martin continued to decode Campbell's journal, and he was making progress. Or so Havelock reported. He and Corvo met in the Admiral's room each night and discussed various things that would need to happen once Emily was on the throne. The Plague was, of course, a frequent topic of conversation. Havelock and Corvo bumped heads on how quarantines were to be kept enforced and how to deal with the blockades. Still, Corvo took some comfort in the fact that Havelock was at least willing to listen. And Havelock was nowhere near as hard-lined as Burrows. He agreed that the Walls of Light were too much ninety percent of the time.

It was challenging to have debates when he had to write all of his points down, but Corvo knew better than Havelock the intricacies in being in charge of an entire Empire. He'd watched Jessamine navigate the politics of it for years, after all.

Havelock poured Corvo a drink of whiskey as they spoke. "We will need the supplies from the other isles," Havelock said as he sat back down in his seat.

Corvo huffed a little bit. This argument again. While Havelock had a point, breaking through the blockades by force wouldn't help matters. If anything, it would only cause the other isles to retaliate with more force. Corvo wrote that as well as his idea for stretching rations down before sliding the paper over. Havelock read what Corvo had written as Corvo adjusted his mask to the side just enough to take a sip of his drink. It burned in a different way than the acid had, but Corvo couldn't stomach much more than two glasses, and even that was a stretch. He used to be able to down a lot more without ill-effects.

"I suppose, with Pendleton's votes, we could put some of these measures into effect. Once we remove Burrows, of course. Martin has found something on that front, by the way," Havelock said.

Corvo gestured for Havelock to keep explaining. "There was a line, just a single reference, to Burrows' Mistress getting her portrait painted by Sokolov," the Admiral said. "Now, Sokolov is due back in his residence on Kaldwin's Bridge at the end of the week. If we can get to him, we can find out who this mystery woman is."

Corvo frowned behind his mask. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with going after Burrows' Mistress. At least, not until there was actual evidence that she was a part of the coup. Just because you were someone's lover didn't automatically mean you were involved with every part of their life. People kept secrets from their significant others all the time. Havelock seemed to think that Burrows was getting the money to keep the military and watch funded from this Mistress, but if he had solid evidence of that, he hadn't shared it with Corvo. Corvo was a bit miffed about that, honestly, but decided to wait until the possibility of attacking the mystery woman was closer.

"But, until Sokolov returns, we're stuck," Havelock said before knocking his drink back. He put the glass back down on his desk. "His servants will let us know when he arrives and therefore when to strike."

Corvo nodded. At the very least, Sokolov might have important information about all of his arc technology. And, as a bonus, he didn't have to run out right away. Corvo was still exhausted and didn't think he could sneak through anywhere with any degree of stealth. He figured sleeping hunched over in a chair was a big reason he was recovering his strength and energy so slowly. Of course, he wasn't having the best dreams either, so that probably didn't help. At least, once he was asleep, he got in a good amount of it. Generally sleeping long past when Emily would wake up.

Speaking of, Emily would be waiting for him, and he didn't like her to stay up too late. Corvo finished his drink and got to his feet. "Calling it a night, Corvo? Alright. We'll continue this tomorrow. Sleep well."

Corvo gave a slight wave of his hand and left to go back upstairs. His head was fuzzy from the alcohol. It seemed to be a particularly strong brew, although Corvo had no idea if it was quality or just made with only potency in mind. The latter, he felt, was more likely.

As he reached the attic, he glanced in on his bed. Corvo frowned as he saw the bare metal frame. He wondered what was taking so long for his mattress to be replaced after it got ruined by some laundry accident. It wasn't critical since he was spending the nights with Emily in the tower, but it would be nice to have his own bed to lay down in again. He'd have to ask Lydia about it the next time he saw her.

Corvo knocked on Emily's door in the same pattern as he always did to let them know it was him. Callista let him in. "Corvo, she's been waiting for you," she said.

"Corvo!"

He gave her a little wave and then ruffled her hair as he took his seat. Once he was settled, Emily leaned over for a hug, and he returned it instantly. Corvo gestured to the book that had been in her lap before he came in. "Oh, this is a book about all the monsters in the sea!" Emily supplied. "There's really huge ones! Bigger than whales and boats! There's this one story of an entire life raft being swallowed whole with the people in it!"

Corvo chuckled -a hoarse thing that had taken some time to get used to. The first time she'd made him laugh again, it had been a surprise. He hadn't heard his own laugh since they mutilated him and hadn't really thought he could if he were honest. But Emily had brought that back for him.

Emily excitedly showed Corvo a print of a massive snake-like monster attacking an old-time wooden ship. The book seemed exactly like the sort of thing Emily would adore. He wondered where she'd gotten it but not enough to go to the trouble of writing out the question for her. They were slowly developing a few signals to communicate, but it nothing nearly that complex yet. Emily smiled again and settled back down at Callista's gentle reminder of the time.

Corvo got as comfortable as he could as Emily went back to reading her stories. She read them aloud, probably for Corvo's benefit more than anything else. Corvo didn't mind at all. He liked hearing her. It reminded him that he wasn't in a cold dark prison cell.

After about ten minutes or so, Corvo let his heavy eyelids close and just listened to Emily talking about the great mysteries of the ocean. Callista was doing something over at the desk. Some sort of paperwork, it sounded like. Maybe grading one of Emily's assignments? Callista had started giving those now that Emily had settled in at the Hound Pits. Emily was less than thrilled, but then she'd always complained about lessons. It was nice to know that some things never changed. Emily was reading a particularly flowery description of a growing storm on the open ocean. Corvo wondered if the author had ever actually been on the water when a big storm was brewing. It was a great deal more terrifying than the description Emily was reading with wonder.

When Corvo woke up, it was late morning, and he was still groggy. Emily and Callista were both gone and probably had been for hours. Corvo shifted his mask off to the side and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He really needed to stop sleeping in so late. It was getting to be a bad habit of his.

Corvo needed some coffee. Badly. He replaced his mask and left the tower. He hated crossing the walk from the attic window to Emily's room, so he hurried as much as possible. His breakfast was sitting on the desk in his room, along with some sort of paper. A little confused, Corvo picked up the note that had Emily's handwriting on it. She was still practicing her calligraphy, and she made a particularly strange curl on the tails of some letters, so it was easy for him to tell who wrote it.

> Corvo,  
> This is a drawing I made of you without your scary mask.

Corvo was incredibly hesitant to look at the second paper on his desk. His face without his mask was even scarier. He made sure to gather himself for any possibility he could imagine before picking up the drawing. What he saw punched the air out of his lungs entirely. She had... she'd drawn him normal—the way he used to look.

His jaw trembled, and he felt the tears burning his eyes as he sat down in the desk chair and stared at Emily's drawing. An unblemished face, and he was even smiling. Corvo lifted his mask to brush away the tears. She'd even written 'Daddy' across the top. She almost never called him that. Corvo had no idea how she could have drawn him like that, but it twisted him up inside in a way he couldn't explain. But, he thought it was probably good. He was so glad that Emily could remember him like he was before and not what he'd become. He loved her so much.

Corvo put the drawing down on the desk in an effort to get a hold of himself. He found his eyes being drawn back to it over and over again. He would have to come up with some way to show Emily how much he loved her and her drawing. Corvo wiped his eyes again and forced himself to turn to the breakfast that had been left for him.

It was cold now, but Corvo didn't mind that. He'd had worse. Wallace had recently taken over the job of cooking from Lydia because, in his words, she wasn't skilled enough for Lord Pendleton's _refined_ palate. Corvo had no idea if that was true, but nobody had complained, and he still provided simple meals for Corvo. This morning, Wallace had made him some sort of oatmeal that looked like it contained pieces of fruit. There was also a mug of coffee for him, which he was a bit more eager for. He probably had been drinking too much coffee lately but was finding it harder to wake up in the morning without it.

Once he finished as much oatmeal as he could stomach (which wasn't enough, but he was slowly trying to build up his appetite again), Corvo put his mask back on. After a moment's debate, he folded up Emily's drawing and put it in his coat pocket. He didn't want to lose such a precious thing, and it wasn't as if he'd be heading out on a mission for it to possibly get damaged during.

He carried his tray of half-eaten food down to the kitchen and thanked Cecelia as she took it from him to wash. She was still nervous around him, but that was slowly getting better. It didn't take very long to track down Lydia. She was arguing with Wallace about some mistakes he'd made in the books. Corvo waited for them to be done before walking up to Lydia. "Oh! Hello, Corvo. It's good to see you up."

Corvo nodded in response to her greeting before pulling out the little notebook that Samuel had found him. It was a bit water damaged on one corner, and Corvo had to tear out some pages when he'd first gotten it, but it was very helpful in communicating to the others. He scribbled the question about his bed for her.

"I've finally managed to find a new mattress for it," Lydia said. "I'm so sorry it took so long, Corvo. The Admiral didn't want to just bring in any mattress we found in case it came from a house that had the Plague. I suppose that makes sense, but it took much longer than it should have." She sounded frustrated, but then that made sense. Corvo had been without a bed of his own for a while now. "But! Samuel brought a new one in this morning. Him and Wallace should be bringing it up before dinner. Then, I'll have a new set of sheets on it right away."

Corvo was glad to hear that and thanked her before going to the main room of the bar. Callista was there with a book open in front of her, but Emily was very conspicuously absent. "Oh, hello, Corvo," Callista greeted. "Emily's run off again. If you spot her, can you send her back to me? It's time for her lessons."

Corvo agreed to that and went off in search of Emily. She wasn't in the bar anywhere, and the entrance to the sewers stayed locked. So that really only meant she could be outside somewhere. Corvo cringed behind his mask but kept looking. Luckily, it didn't take very long for Corvo to find Emily once he dared go into the open.

She was sitting on top of the overturned boat that Samuel used as a roof for his shelter. Judging by the way her hands were waving around animatedly and Samuel's bemused expression, she was telling another elaborate story. Perhaps trying to weasel a boat ride out of the older man at the same time. Corvo crossed the courtyard quickly just in time to hear the tail end of what Emily was saying. "-nd then Mother said that if we were going to play in puddles, the least Corvo could do was make sure they weren't muddy ones! But the muddy ones are the best! They splash better."

Corvo smiled behind his mask. He was glad to see that Emily hadn't completely forgotten the happier times after everything she'd been through. Jessamine would be so proud to see how well she was coping with everything. "Corvo! Did you get my picture?"

He nodded and put a hand over the pocket of his coat where the wax drawing was located. Corvo didn't bother trying to mime how much he loved it and just reached over to pull her off the boat and into a hug instead. She yelped a little but then broke into laughter when she realized what he was doing. Emily had a tight grip on him, and Corvo savored every second of it before putting her down.

He crouched in front of her and pulled out his notebook again. She made a face when he told her to go back to Callista for her lesson. "But Corvo!" He shook his head. Corvo would love nothing more than to give her what she wanted and let her enjoy playing around, but her schooling was important. And Callista said keeping to a schedule would help Emily feel more normal after everything that happened. Corvo wasn't sure about that but was willing to trust that Callista knew what she was talking about. Emily still pouted, but when Corvo pointed to the words he'd written on his notebook again, she gave in and went to join Callista.

Samuel was chuckling a little. "That Lady Emily sure is a spirited girl. It's good to see her runnin' around an' enjoying herself." Corvo nodded in agreement. "Care to enjoy the fresh air with me, Corvo?"

After a moment's thought, Corvo nodded in agreement and moved to sit down within Samuel's drafty shack. He did like being outside in the fresh air -the exact opposite of Coldridge- but his debilitating fear of wide open and brightly lit spaces made it hard to enjoy. The only way Corvo had managed it was sitting in Samuel's shack where he was out of immediate sight and sheltered but could still see out of the gaps in the wood and catch the briny breeze off the river.

They had discovered the compromise quite by accident. Corvo had not been having the best day shortly after retrieving Emily. Every minor thing had been setting him off. A sizzling pan had finally left him so panicked and disoriented that he'd ended up fleeing outside, which then, of course, caused its own panic. Samuel had thankfully been nearby when Corvo had been spiraling down into a pit of his own fear. Somehow he'd managed to get Corvo into his little shack. Corvo had stayed there the rest of the day until he felt better and then even after that to just enjoy the peace and quiet.

Samuel sat out in the sun while Corvo leaned carefully against the flimsy walls that kept the worst of the elements off Samuel as he slept. Corvo risked taking his mask off, knowing that the old sailor wouldn't actively try to catch any glimpses of the damage there. The hood of his jacket stayed up, and Corvo remained tucked into the dark corners of the shed, but that was enough. The feeling of the breeze on his face was so strange but not necessarily bad. Corvo was a little unsure but thought he might enjoy it. It reminded him that he was free.

Corvo closed his eyes and just soaked up the pleasantness of the day. Deliberately not thinking about anything or planning anything. Just existing and being free.

After a little while, Samuel started telling his own little story, and Corvo listened with half an ear. It was some story about his wife and her misadventures with trying to bake a pie. Corvo had no idea if the story was true, but it seemed too ridiculous to not be at least based partially on facts. And it was nice to listen to Samuel speak.

Corvo ended up spending most of the day out there with Samuel until Wallace came to get the mattress they were to put up in the attic. Corvo would have helped, but Wallace, surprisingly enough, insisted that he and Samuel were enough. Corvo hadn't thought that Wallace thought all that highly of him. Then again... Wallace had been going out of his way to make food Corvo could actually eat, so maybe he wasn't as stuck up as the airs he put on would lead one to believe.

After dinner, Corvo again joined Havelock in his room to go over what news there was. A few more districts around Dunwall had been closed off, and more tallboys were being employed. Corvo was less than pleased about that. The tallboys were problematic due to their drugged state. More people lacking empathy was not what was needed when the Plague was spreading through Dunwall. Eventually, the conversation switched from Burrows' less than tempered decisions to governing Dunwall during a crisis and how to guide Emily in doing so.

Corvo sighed softly as he listened to Havelock going on about legislation he wanted to put in place to fund new navy ships for breaking the blockades. Havelock had a real personal issue with the blockades, it seemed. The Admiral was a good military man, but he didn't do politics. That was painfully clear by how he seemed to think he could just have Emily make a few decrees once she was on the throne, and it would all somehow work out. And if it didn't, the guards or military would ensure that Emily's decree was followed through with. That would upset the aristocrats, which was a sure-fire way to start another coup.

At least Havelock wasn't suggesting anything particularly outrageous. But even the most tempered decisions could set the parliament off. Even something as minor as using a slightly harsher than necessary word in describing the decision could get some more troublesome Lords up in arms. The Admiral _had_ dealt with the Aristocracy before, but he'd never been required to, which added a different flavor to all interactions in Corvo's experience.

Corvo wrote his thoughts down for Havelock, reminding him that there was a parliament for a reason, and then sat back to take a sip of his whiskey. Havelock grumbled as he read the response. He would most likely have some argument to Corvo's points.

"I suppose," Havelock said, clearly unhappy. "But with this plague going on, we have to be decisive."

Corvo reached over for the paper. There was a difference between decisive and dictator. People in Dunwall had been through enough without martial law being enacted. They were practically living under it now from what Corvo had seen on his trips out to the city. They were doing all this to get rid of Burrows, not replace him with someone just as bad.

Corvo frowned and put down his pen. His fingertips were oddly numb, but he knew he hadn't had that much to drink... Corvo rubbed his fingers together as he stared at them. "Something wrong, Corvo?" Havelock asked.

Something definitely was, although Corvo wasn't sure what. Without thinking, he went to say something. The world was far too hazy, and it felt like it was spinning. Corvo got up from his chair, dropping his glass as he did. It shattered on the ground. "Easy there, Corvo," Havelock said as he got up as well. Corvo had to get upstairs. Needed to get some rest before he fell over. What was the strange buzzing in his head?

He went to move, and his feet wouldn't cooperate. He stumbled into the wall. Corvo tried to grab hold of something, anything, but the wall was blank. He fell to the ground as the world spun and grew dark. He couldn't- what was this? Just before he passed out, he thought that Corvo saw Havelock reaching down to where he was lying on the floor.

* * *

Corvo groaned as he slowly came around. He wasn't sure what happened or where he was. Just that it was incredibly dark. His limbs felt like they were made of stone. He heard talking nearby. Familiar voices. "-about time. It's been almost a week, Admiral."

"That's hardly my fault. I had to keep increasing the dosage. I've never seen a man drink that much Valeria before going down," Havelock said.

"Must be his Serkonian blood. Natural resistance and all that." Corvo thought that sounded a bit like Pendleton, but his brain was still so fuzzy it was hard to tell. "Although if it takes so much every time, it will be severely cost-prohibitive."

"Yes, well, it's done now. And just in time. Sokolov is due back home in three days, according to his servants."

What was going on? Valeria was a plant from Serkonos. Little clusters of white flowers on long stems -flowers that served as a popular herbal tea. The root was stronger, though, and could be distilled down for medicine. The root extract was the main ingredient in a particularly potent sleep tonic-

Corvo's eyes snapped open when he realized what he'd just puzzled out. He certainly hadn't deliberately taken any Valeria Extract. Metal was above him. Corvo rolled over. More metal walls. Corvo reached out with his hand and felt the wall. It was solid and cold and surprisingly close to where he was sprawled out. This was real. How was this real!? What was going on and why!?

A quick glance around revealed a pile of blankets under him and a chamber pot in the corner by his feet. Corvo noticed faint light and turned his head. There was one side that had bars instead of solid metal. He went to the bars and peered out. A large room with a big cage in it was in front of him. The Pub's namesake. "He's awake." Corvo looked to the side and saw Pendleton, Martin, and Havelock gathered together.

"Already? I was expecting him to be out at least another hour," Havelock said with a frown.

Corvo wanted to demand answers. "This is for the best, Corvo. With that mark of yours, we can't be sure you're not being influenced by unknown forces," Havelock said as he came closer. "I know it might seem superstitious, but as Martin pointed out, we really can't afford to take any chances."

The curses he wanted to spit out came as a stream of garbled nonsense, and it was not pleasant to feel his vocal cords strain, but Corvo couldn't help it. "There's no need to growl at us, Corvo," Martin said. "Don't worry, you'll still be a part of this."

"That's right," Pendleton said. "We couldn't possibly remove your involvement from reinstating Emily to her rightful place."

Corvo pulled at the bars, but they wouldn't budge. He hadn't really expected them to, but it was still frustrating. He tugged and pulled. "Calm down, Corvo," Havelock said. "You're perfectly safe. You just stay in here and relax, and we'll come get you when we have something for you to do."

How could they act like this was normal? They couldn't just put him in a-a-a crate! Martin came closer, and Corvo glared at him. "I know this isn't ideal, Corvo, but I hope you'll come to realize that we're only doing this because we, too, want the best for Emily."

Martin did something, and Corvo heard metal grinding. He just barely had a second to pull his hands back before a heavy plate slammed down over the bars, cutting off the outside world entirely. Corvo stared at the black in front of him, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

He reached out and felt the iron trapping him. They were really doing this? No, this had to be some incredibly vivid nightmare. Right? They wouldn't have freed him from prison only to lock him in a hound cage...

Corvo heard the muffled sound of a door closing somewhere. They had really left him. Corvo let his hand fall from the hatch, still struggling to comprehend how he'd gone from relaxing with Samuel with fresh air to a small, black box. He was ready to wake up.

Corvo felt dizzy and leaned forward to rest his head on the bars. He frowned at how cold it felt and put his hand to his face. He jerked when he realized his mask was gone. They'd taken his mask off! Why?

A quick investigation revealed that Corvo's clothing was still all there but not any tools or weapons. He heard a crumple in his coat as he fumbled in the dark. He pulled out the paper and bent closer to where the thinnest of gaps existed around the hatch. Emily's picture. The tremble came back to Corvo's jaw, and he closed his eyes tight. Despite not wanting to allow it, the tears trailed down his craggy cheeks as he curled up in the corner and held Emily's picture of who he used to be near his chest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a time skip between the end of last chapter and the beginning of this chapter. And as a warning, this is a rough chapter but it's probably the worst it's going to get. Bright side! Daud shows up next chapter! Yay!

Time was a cruel and unpleasant mistress. He had no grasp of her whatsoever. Sometimes he knew why that was, and other times the very realization that he lost an indeterminate amount with startling frequency was distant. He was somewhere in between at the moment. There was no reason to be awake. It was black as the Outsider's eyes, and he didn't have much in the way of room. Sometimes, if he was good, they let him out to walk around and see the sky. Always at night, though. Bright lights gave him headaches.

But, as little as there was for him to do, there was also only so long he could be asleep for. So, he lay there in the tangle of his nest and went crazy with boredom. Sometimes he braided his hair blindly in the dark because he needed something to do, and that was about all he had available to him. But today, he didn't want to fiddle with his hair.

He stared as the birds flew through hoops of stars. Sometimes they were there, and sometimes they weren't. Right now, they were a huge flock, and they were spiraling like dancers. The stars were sparkling, just begging to be touched. He reached out and drew back sharply at the slight shock that went through his fingers and left them feeling numb. The birds circled again and did cartwheels in his vision.

He heard a door open somewhere but didn't bother to so much as lift his head. A door wasn't necessarily anything to get excited about. The birds turned as one unit before flying up higher.

Footsteps drew closer to his den, and he paid a little more attention.

A small door in the bottom of the hatch slid to the side, and light came in. Objectively, it probably wasn't very bright, but he still flinched away from the light anyway. It was bright for someone who lived in darkness. A bowl was pushed halfway through the slot. "I believe you liked this last time. You ate it all, at least," a somewhat familiar voice said. "Please, take it."

He blinked several times before shifting to his hands and knees. He crawled forward and cautiously grabbed the lip of the bowl to drag it inside fully. He was expecting the slot to close again, but it didn't. He dug two fingers into whatever he'd been given and used that to scoop the warm stuff into his mouth. 

"Lady Esma Boyle has accepted my Lord Pendleton's marriage proposal. I assume she remains unaware of my Lord's involvement in the disappearance of her sister," the man outside his den said. He swallowed the warm food before scooping more up with his fingers. "Do you remember the Lady Boyle? The party?"

He thought for a moment. Bright lights, flying colored pieces of paper, a book that he wrote in... Admiral had been very unhappy with him about something. He'd disobeyed. But Admiral forgave him for it because he and his friends, Sir and Lord, were merciful. The memory was hazy, and details slipped away. He found thinking about it too difficult so went back to the food. 

"The Empress has sent a message to you," the man outside said. 

He paused. Empress. A beautiful woman with dark hair pinned up and a sweet singing voice. But that wasn't right... He wasn't sure why it wasn't, but he couldn't shake the thought that something was off. She wore black, he remembered, and her hands had felt so good running over the skin of his chest. Her lips were soft but full. But she shouldn't have a message for him...

The man outside was speaking again. "She says that her plan is almost ready. She and Samuel think they have found a way to come and get you."

He frowned. Come and get him? She wasn't supposed to do that. Nobody was supposed to see him. Never, ever. He was a monster that did monstrous, unnatural things. Nothing an Empress should be associating with.

"I know you are awake," the man said. "The Empress would like it if you showed you understood." He sucked the loose food from his fingers as he eyed the rectangle of light. After a moment, he reached over and hit the wall twice. Twice meant yes, he thought. It had been a while since anyone had asked anything.

"Good," the man outside said. "She'll be happy."

Well, it was good to make her happy, he thought. He did want her happy. He scooped up more food with his fingers. He somehow knew that the man was still outside. What he was waiting for he didn't know, but it wasn't as if he could get the man to go away.

In silence, he scraped and sucked away the food as best he could before sliding the bowl back out. "I hope it was to your liking," the man said. "You seemed to eat it better than yesterday's dinner."

Yesterday's dinner. He couldn't remember yesterday. 

The man outside put a container halfway in the opening again. He picked it up and fumbled with the cap. The liquid was a faint purple color. He drank it slowly but steadily. Another container, this one filled with clear liquid, was put down as well. 

He picked up the empty one he had left in the corner and put it down so that he could pick up the full one. If he didn't give them the first one, he wouldn't get any for days, and that was not something he wanted to repeat. The man took the exchange and then the one that had been filled with the purple liquid, once it was empty. 

With his meal done, he crawled back to his nest and settled down. "It won't be too much longer," the man outside said. "I promise."

He didn't know what the man was going on about, but that also wasn't important. He didn't need to know much. Just who to go visit. When he was allowed out. After another few moments, or maybe a long time, the man outside said he had to return to his duties. He closed the slot and sent the small space fully into black again.

He curled up and pulled some of the blankets over himself. Sometimes he imagined he was in a nicer place, but there was little point in that. He deserved being in a cold little black box. It was the only place he could be and not destroy everything and everyone.

Time was slippery again. 

He woke up to someone knocking on his den. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes. Why was he being woken up?

Light came in, and he flinched deeper into his nest, where it was safer. But he looked to the slot. It only opened when it was to give him something. "Here." He blinked as a familiar skull shape was pushed through the slot. His face. They were giving him his face? "Come, take it." He crawled closer and took it gingerly.

If he snatched it away, they might punish him with the mirror again, and he didn't like that. He couldn't be too eager. "There's a good boy." He put his face back on.

The front of his den lifted, and he cringed back from the light; luckily, the lenses on his face helped protect his eyes. The bars opened, and he crawled out. His boots and coat were in a chest on the other side of the room, but he looked first at the one who had woken him up and given him his face again. 

Sir, the one who ensured he got fed and water and even let him take a bath sometimes, was standing there with his arms behind his back. Sir reached out and pet his head. "Your hair is getting frightfully long," Sir said. "Maybe we'll cut it next time you get a bath."

He didn't like haircuts; it meant his head was held tight and a knife was brought close to his head a lot, and that frightened him. But Sir and Admiral were both particular about certain things like his hair. Sir hummed and reached into his coat. He pulled out a black book that he always kept with him and flipped through it. "Do you remember Overseer Khulan from the last time you were sent out to visit someone?"

He shook his head. There were too many Overseers to remember even if he wanted to, and most of them wore masks. "Mm, well, he's been causing a bit of trouble lately. I'm going to need you to go and pay him a personal visit now," Sir said. "If you behave yourself, you'll get a treat. It has been a long time since you've seen the Empress. Almost four months. Perhaps I can arrange a meeting for you. Someplace nice. Would you like that?"

He nodded. He remembered that he did desperately want to see someone specific. He assumed that was who Sir was referring to. Because otherwise, it wouldn't be a treat. And Sir always gave what he promised. Sir smiled and pet his head again. "Very good. Now, let me remind you about Overseer Khulan. He's a bad man who definitely deserves a visit from you."

From his seat on the floor, he listened carefully to what Sir said and watched as he walked back and forth across the room. Sir was reading from his black book where he always had so much information about seemingly everything. "Alright," Sir said after several minutes. "That's everything. Go get your toys and get dressed. I'll take you down to the boat."

He crawled to the chest that had the things he used on his visits and opened the lid. His boots and coat and lots of other things were laid out in the chest. He pulled on his things and then slowly pushed himself up to his feet. He wasn't often on his feet. There was no room to stand in his den, and Lord said he 'loomed' if he stood up. 

Sir gave him a minute to regain his balance. "There's my favorite heretic," Sir said with a fond smile. Sir put his hand to his lower back. "Come along. The night is burning."

He allowed Sir to lead the way since he wasn't entirely sure where he even was. Every time he left his den, it felt like he was in a completely new place. Sir led him through halls made of concrete and which smelled of standing water. He stumbled a little on a short set of metal stairs, but Sir kept him upright. He knew once he had some time to adjust, he wouldn't stumble and trip over his own feet anymore.

Sir brought him to a bathroom that didn't look like it was used often and picked up a long needle. "Arm out."

He extended his arm and watched with a strange disconnect as Sir rolled up the sleeve of his coat and injected the medicine into the crook of his elbow. He was used to this too. Felt the burn many times before. It took the pain away and helped him be obedient. He vaguely remembered struggling to do as they told him before they started giving him the medicine. He got punished a lot more then.

Sir rubbed his arm where he'd done the injection and smiled. "There. By the time you get to Holger Square, you'll be a proper monster again," Sir said. There was a pause where Sir continued to knead his arm. "Aren't you going to thank me?"

He shifted to press himself against Sir and tucked his head against Sir's shoulder. Sir rubbed his back with his free hand. He shuddered and pressed closer. "There. Remember, we should always be grateful to those who give us assistance, my Heretic."

He nodded. Sir was right -of course- he had forgotten, but luckily Sir was forgiving. Sir had always treated him kindly. Not like Lord, who might provide a place for his den but couldn't spend more than a few moments in his company. Or Admiral who was much stricter and angrier. Admiral, unlike Sir, had little patience for mistakes.

Sir tightened his grip for a moment and then pulled back. He couldn't help himself from trying to keep the contact just a moment longer. It had been so long since he'd been touched at all. Sir held him back with a hand on his shoulder. "No, no. You have work to do. Come along. Be good now."

Though disappointed, he nodded and pulled down his sleeve. Sir led him through more corridors, and his mind was slowly clearing as he followed. He was still in a haze, to be sure, but he could begin to track the path they were taking and recall that he had been here before. One of Lord's many estates. His movements were becoming easier too. By the time he reached the boat, he was confident that he could leap across a gap in rooftops and actually make it without difficulty. 

He got into the boat and curled up in the bottom of it where he didn't feel as exposed. "Remember, he's to be returned by daybreak, or we will be forced to activate the restraint," Sir said sternly.

"I remember," the old man at the rudder said in a growl. 

The boat left the dock shortly after that. "Snake," the old man said. "To think we ever trusted him... Are you alright, Corvo?"

He blinked. Corvo. That name was... he hadn't heard it in a long time. He thought it might be his...

"This'll be over soon, Corvo. I promise you." He turned over onto his back and stared up at the sky. It was cloudy, which was good for a visit, but he'd rather see the stars. "Lady Emily -Empress Emily rather-, me, and the others have been working hard on getting you out of this. And we've finally found a way. We're sure of it. And then we can get Piero and Sokolov to get that damn thing off you."

He had no idea what the old man was talking about. Not really. A part of him was happy to hear it, but a larger part couldn't bring himself to care overmuch. "But tonight, you've got to be careful, Corvo. High Overseer Martin is sendin' you to take out one of his rivals. Overseer Khulan. Word is he's a genuine follower of the Strictures. I guess, when Martin can't blackmail someone, he doesn't have many options left."

He wasn't sure what the old man was talking about. Sir had made it clear how bad Khulan was. There shouldn't be any question. Sir was a good man who looked after him even when he was disobedient. "Now, I know they gave ya those drugs again, Corvo. The ones that make ya all confused, but you've just got to remember you don't have ta kill anyone. You didn't kill Lady Boyle, and you didn't kill Burrows. And you don't have to kill Overseer Khulan now. I have a letter here from Emily. It tells Overseer Khulan to go into hiding for now until we can deal with Martin. Callista seems to think Khulan will listen to reason."

He studied the sky and listened to the water splashing against the hull of the ship. The old man was still talking and sounded upset. Samuel. His name was Samuel, although he had no idea why he suddenly knew that. "If I'd have know somethin' like this could happen I would have never taken you an' Lady Emily back ta the Hound Pits that day after the Golden Cat. I would have taken ya anywhere else. I swear I would."

The boat ride took a little while, but then Samuel pulled up to a spot that felt terribly familiar. "We're here, Corvo. Remember what I said. You don't have to kill anyone no matter what they told you. There's always another way," Samuel said.

He stepped out onto solid ground and looked around. This place really was too familiar. He shook the nagging sensation off and started walking. He had to go and visit Overseer Khulan. He closed his fist and quickly transported himself up onto a roof. Watch members were milling about, but they wouldn't see him. Nobody saw him if he didn't want them to.

As he moved along Clavering, he had such an intense feeling of having done this before. Everything was too hazy to pick out many details, but he couldn't shake the thought. A loudspeaker was reminding people about curfew, and he cringed at how the announcement made his ears ring. Sometimes he really disliked leaving his den for the streets. They were not comfortable. Too much was always going on that it made him queasy trying to process it all.

But, he pushed through and made it to the end of Clavering, where the Abbey was located. Holger Square would have lots of Overseers with their painful music around. But that wouldn't stop him. It just meant he'd have to climb more often.

Sir had told him that Overseer Khulan would be in the library. He knew where that was. He'd been there before.

So, he slipped into a window and climbed up onto a table to leap and scramble onto one of the big chandeliers hanging in the hall. It was not an easy jump, but he managed. He would have just teleported himself with his filthy heretic magic, but the music was playing in the halls over speakers, which made that impossible.

He crawled along pipes that ran the length of the halls until he reached the library. Overseer Khulan was sitting at a desk on the upper level of the library flipping through pages at quite a rate. He unfolded his sword and slowly moved closer. Sir had been clear. Khulan was bad and had to die. The note burned in his pocket as he lifted his sword. He would be nice and make it quick. Sir didn't say he had to make it hurt. Khulan flipped another page, entirely unaware of the danger he was in.

After, he slipped out of the Abbey and returned to the boat. Samuel was waiting for him. He made himself comfortable in the bottom and turned his head to look up at the night sky again. The cloud coverage had drifted away, exposing a few stars that dared fight against the spotlights of the city and a sliver of moon. Samuel was talking, but he wasn't listening. He reached up to the stars, but he couldn't touch these, and they didn't zap him for the effort.

When they arrived back at the docks, Sir was waiting for him. He smiled and reached down to help him out of the boat. Sir was always nice like that. He got out with Sir's help. "We'll be moving him tomorrow," Sir said. He assumed it was to the boatman. "Next time we need you, we'll tell you where to meet us."

"There's no need for that," the boatman, who's name had slipped out of his mind just that easily, said. "We know you're serious 'bout turning on that damn thing 'round his neck."

"We are, yes," Sir said. "But I'd rather not take chances that you'll be getting ideas."

Sir put a hand on his lower back and urged him forward. He went where Sir took him. It wasn't the concrete area where his den was. But instead, it was a rich person's bedroom with thick carpet and drapes in a dark amber color. A large bed was against one wall and had tall posts that almost reached the vaulted ceilings. Sir brought him into another room off of the bedroom—a bathroom with gleaming fixtures and bright white marble. 

"Alright, let's get you cleaned up, my dirty heretic," Sir said.

Sir helped him take off his clothes and, though his body was far from pleasant, Sir was never so mean as to point it out. Sir even pulled out a small golden key from his pocket and unlocked the thick metal restraint around his neck. He honestly forgot he had it on most of the time as it was designed to not interfere with sleeping or eating. But taking it off did make his neck feel lighter. Sir put the band on a nearby table along with the key and then rubbed his shoulders. It felt so good he closed his eyes behind his face, and a little noise escaped his throat. "Better?" Sir asked. He nodded and melted into Sir's hands. But, Sir only rubbed his shoulders and neck for another few moments before gesturing to the tub.

He got into the tub, and Sir turned on the water. It was almost painfully hot, and the noise it made when it gushed from the tap was uncomfortably loud. But he sat there and watched as the water slowly got higher. He trembled a little bit as it reached his hips and kept rising. He didn't like a lot of water. He could swim, he knew that, but he still didn't like it. Sir had told him he was being silly and that even heretics needed to wash sometimes, but he couldn't stop shaking in the bath.

Sir took off his dark coat and rolled up his sleeves. Sir gave him a smile as he quaked in the steadily rising water. "Good boy, now just sit there, and I'll handle everything."

He nodded to show he understood and stayed sitting there as Sir picked up some soap and approached. He stayed still as Sir sat on the side of the tub and started to wash him. He closed his eyes to focus more on the gentle hands rubbing over his skin and digging into sore muscles until they went slack rather than the water that had stopped around the middle of his chest.

Sir's big hands were warm and a little rough, but he wasn't afraid to touch his scarred and withered body. Sir didn't shy away from the horror of him and just washed away the coating of grime that had built up since the last bath. Sir didn't mention how he was still shaking. Sir's hand moved down his body to his thighs and rubbed along the wiry muscles there. Sir massaged his thigh for several moments before moving on. 

Despite having said that he needed his hair cut, Sir didn't make any move to do it. Instead, he just took more soap in hand and started washing the long greasy black strands. The water was starting to get cool as Sir slowly untangled the mass so that Sir's fingers could actually move through it.

Sir drained the tub and refilled it when it got too dirty. His hair slowly felt less like his nest and more like actual hair as Sir cleaned and untangled the worst of the knots. He was surprised that his hair fell well past his shoulders at this point. No wonder Sir said that he needed a haircut.

After his hair was clean, Sir reached for his face. He whined and grabbed at it, not wanting his face taken away again. "Hush now," Sir said in a lightly scolding tone. "We need to wash under it too. You'll get it back."

Still reluctant -but not willing to be disobedient- he slowly lowered his hands and allowed Sir to remove his face. He kept his eyes closed as Sir gently rubbed and stroked the mangled flesh there. It made him shake even worse than the water, but Sir ignored that. Sir was very careful, cleaning every deep furrow and twisted feature with tender touches and soft strokes. Occasionally Sir would sush him, and he would only then realize he was whining. Once Sir was done, he patted his flesh dry and then put his face back on. It was a relief.

"Just a little bit more," Sir said as his hand slid under the surface of the water again. Sir patted at the inside of his thigh. He parted them with a little reluctance but knew that if Sir was doing this, it had to be a necessity. The strictures didn't like such intimacy, and Sir was a good man who followed the strictures. 

He closed his eyes as Sir's hand moved between his thighs to wash his filth away. He tried to remain still and passive because he knew Sir was only doing what was needed. But it was hard because Sir's hand was gentle but not shy. It felt good, and he rarely felt things like that. "Come now, my heretic," Sir said as he continued to carefully wash the area between his legs. "I know those like you don't follow the strictures, but you really should try harder."

He whined and nodded. He would try harder. He would. Sir was being nice, and he was perverting it. Sir pulled his hand back before he could make a terrible mistake. He was grateful for that even though it left him in an uncomfortable situation. "Alright, out of the bath," Sir said as he went to dry his hands off.

He carefully did as he was told and dried off. Sir gave him one of his own shirts to wear since his clothes were dirty. "Come on," Sir said with a hand on his lower back. He nodded and allowed Sir to lead him back to the bedroom. "Now, since you've been so very good lately, you can stay here with me tonight," Sir said.

He had mixed feelings about that. On the one hand, having company would be so very nice. On the other hand, his den was safe and familiar. But, if Sir wanted him to be here, then he could do little else but be here. Sir gave him his diner while Sir went out to meet with Admiral. He ate as cleanly as he could, but it was difficult. 

He was feeling tired again and put the tray of dishes on a nearby chest of drawers. Perhaps, while he waited for Sir to return, it wouldn't be so bad to take a nap? Sir hadn't said he couldn't. Plus, he was really very tired. So, he curled up under the bed and closed his eyes. There weren't any blankets for warmth, but the carpet was nice and plush, so it wasn't hard to drift off to sleep.

Some time later, he wasn't sure how long exactly, he woke up on the ground. He blinked in confusion that the bed wasn't above him and realized Sir must have dragged him out while he was asleep for some reason. Sir was standing there with a frown, which was always bad. "Heretic, I went to check your sword," Sir said. Sir held up his sword. It gleamed in the light. "Why is there no blood on it?"

He blinked and then realized that Admiral was there too. "Did you disobey me?" Sir asked. "After all this time, I thought we were past this," Sir said. He flinched and dropped his head. He didn't know why he hadn't killed Khulan. He had meant to. But he just hadn't. Instead, he'd dropped the note on the desk and fled. It didn't make sense. He didn't know why he did it.

"I told you that you were too nice to him, Martin," Admiral said. "He's a killer, not a pet. You've got to have a strong hand for discipline."

Sir sighed and folded away the sword. "I suppose you're right. I'm very disappointed in you, Heretic. Now you're going to make me have to punish you." He ducked his head lower. He knew that, and now he felt worse about all the kindness Sir had given him when he'd returned. He really was scum to take such nice treatment when he knew he'd not been obedient. Now he was making them discipline him. He trembled. He really was horrible.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last rapid fire update I think... unless my brain continues to stew in this story and not flip to one of my others again.

Emily Drexel Lela Kaldwin the First sat in the familiar riverboat, the Amaranth, as it puttered through the water. Callista and the others didn't want her doing this personally, but Emily felt she had to. Samuel guided the boat around some rocks expertly. "How was he, Samuel?" Emily asked as she tried to not wring her shirt.

"Confused," Samuel said. "I don't think he knew who I was... bu' he didn' look hurt."

Emily supposed she should do her best to take as much comfort in that as possible, although there wasn't a whole lot there. She clutched her knees to keep from showing her inner thoughts. Havelock, Martin, and Pendleton had surpassed Burrows in her mind as the worst people in the world. At least Spymaster Burrows, as horrible as he was, hadn't used Emily's safety as leverage. Emily didn't know fully what threat was used to make her Father agree to kidnap Sokolov as Cecelia, who overheard the threat and went running to Lydia about it, refused to go into details with Emily. All the others had agreed.

At first, Emily had simply been told that Corvo was still recovering from prison, and that was why she didn't see him much, but it didn't take long for her to realize the truth. After that fancy party at the Boyle's, Havelock was so upset that Corvo hadn't killed Burrows' Mistress. Emily didn't understand it. Not killing people was supposed to be good. She found out by listening through Havelock's door that they had 'punished' Corvo. She'd gotten worried and demanded that she see him.

They didn't let her see him, of course. Well, not then. They said once they got rid of smelly old Burrows that she could see him again. If she behaved. Emily hated it, and she heard Callista talking with the others when she thought Emily was sleeping. Wallace said that Havelock used something Piero made for the rich, weird men that went to the Golden Cat. Then they made Sokolov and Piero make something that could turn Corvo to ashes! Emily had been so terrified for Corvo, so she behaved as best she could.

But Havelock was a dirty rotten liar. He only let Emily see Corvo once, even though she was being even better than best. Corvo hadn't even gotten up but had hugged her so tight Emily thought her bones would break. Then Admiral pulled Emily away and, though Corvo tried, he couldn't get up and grab her back.

Havelock and Pendleton kept saying that if she was good and did all the decrees that they told her to do, that they'd let her see Corvo again. But that was four months ago, and Emily hadn't seen her Father once. Not one time. Wallace knew where he was because he made Corvo's food. Wallace would pass information onto Cecelia, who passed it to Lydia, who gave it to Samuel, who found Geoff Curnow, who could then tell Callista, and then Emily would finally get some sort of news. It was never enough, though. She wanted her Father back.

Unfortunately, Wallace said he didn't have the key to let Corvo out. Only Martin and Havelock had the keys. Emily had tried to find ways to get the keys from them, but they always caught her.

So, Emily had come up with a plan. She didn't think anyone really liked it, but Emily was not going to let them hurt Corvo anymore. Not because of her. It had taken some weaseling to get the name from Captain Curnow of the man that really killed her mother, but she had. Daud. She remembered the weird powers that he and his scary masked assassins had. He could save Corvo. And he would. Because Emily would _make him_.

Emily was scared to see the man who killed her mother again, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. She was Empress. That meant it didn't matter how scared she was; she had to do the right thing. It was what her mother and Corvo would both want.

The Flooded District was where Overseer Khulan had said Overseer Campbell had launched an assault on Daud and his assassins. There was no guarantee he was still there, but Emily had no other place to start looking for Daud.

The Flooded District was supposed to have a lot of Weepers and things, so Samuel didn't want to bring Emily with him, but Emily just knew she had to do this herself. Because Emily was Empress and Samuel was just a boatman with no authority.

Samuel was muttering about how this was a bad idea, but Emily didn't pay too much attention to him. Emily knew that Daud killed people for money, so that meant he'd be willing to do other things for money, too, right? Although, Emily wasn't offering money. Emily had other things to offer that the others thought that Daud would want more. Emily hadn't been happy about it but could see their point. This was too important to risk him saying no.

They didn't get very far into the Flooded District before a man in a blue Whaler coat and one of those masks appeared suddenly on the front of the boat. Emily jumped, and Samuel cursed. "What are you doing here, Empress?" the man in the blue coat asked.

Emily had to calm herself. She had jumped nearly out of her skin, and her heart was being so fast it hurt. "I... I want to see Daud," she said. She hated that her voice shook. She was supposed to be brave and make Daud save her Father, and here she was shaking like a leaf.

"You. Want to see Daud," the assassin echoed, sounding like he didn't believe it.

"Yes!" Emily said.

"... why do _you_ want to see Daud?"

Emily pursed her lips together. "Because... I want to hire him!"

There was an awkward silence. "... you do remember what Daud does, yes?"

"Of course!" Emily said, getting more and more frustrated. "But I want to talk to Daud. Or is he scared to face me?"

Finally, the man in blue nodded. "Very well. I'll take you to a safe place and then go bring Daud."

Emily nodded, although she wasn't entirely sure how she should feel just yet. She was going to actually see Daud. The man who killed her mother. Emily would have been happy to never see him again, but this was too important, and Daud had powers. He had to be able to save her Father.

The man in blue directed Samuel to a broken walkway that he could tie the Amaranth to. Beside the walkway was what looked like it had been an office building of some sort but had been flooded. There was a fire escape leading from one of the second-story windows down to the walkway. "This building is safe. You can wait inside or here on the boat."

Emily nodded and got out. "I'll be inside then," Emily said with as much confidence as she could muster. Samuel got out with her. Emily knew that Samuel had a pistol with him, but she remembered Corvo had shot one of the assassins the day her mother was killed, and that hadn't seemed to help much.

The man in blue bowed. "I will return shortly," he said before disappearing in a cloud of smoke and shadow.

Emily found a box to sit on and folded her hands in her lap. "Well, here we are," Samuel said as he leaned against the wall just beside where Emily was sitting. "Still not sure this is the best idea..." Emily wasn't sure herself, but she wasn't just going to sit around and do nothing.

* * *

Daud stared at Thomas. "Repeat what you just said."

"Empress Emily Kaldwin is in the Danver Building and is demanding to see you," Thomas said.

Daud still wasn't sure that he understood properly, but he knew Thomas wouldn't be lying to him. "Did she say what she wanted?"

"To hire you."

Now Daud was very concerned. Of all the people in Dunwall he expects to want to hire him, Emily Kaldwin -child Empress by his own hand- was probably the last on the list. "I take it she came with Overseers and Guards?"

"Just an old man."

Daud frowned. "Was she being followed by another group?" Perhaps an ambush situation.

"Not that we could tell. That's why I approached in the first place, to see what she was doing in the Flooded District with only an old man for protection," Thomas said. "She seems sincere."

Daud considered that for a moment. There were rumors that the Crown now had its own assassin in the Masked Felon, so then why would Emily Kaldwin even need to hire Daud? Perhaps this was a target that Emily wanted to be removed without her advisors finding out about? There was a lot of talk in certain circles that Admiral Havelock and the new High Overseer really were the ones to make the decisions, so perhaps they were the ones with the assassin and not Emily.

There were a lot of questions, and Daud wasn't fond of that. Daud wasn't interested in killing anymore. Not even for Emily Kaldwin. But, he supposed he owed it to her to at least hear her out. Daud sighed and got to his feet. "The Danver Building, you said?"

Thomas nodded. Daud was still fairly certain he was walking into a trap of some sort, but he couldn't bring himself to ignore the situation. He would go see what Emily Kaldwin wanted, tell her he wasn't killing anyone, and then perhaps it would be best to leave Dunwall. It was a thought he'd been toying with for a while but had been putting off.

Travelling to the Danver's building only took about ten minutes with Transversals and cutting across rooftops. Daud took a moment to survey the scene from up high. Only one small riverboat. No other vessels in sight. And his Void Gaze told him only two people inside. This did not make sense, and Daud hated when things didn't make sense.

Daud contemplated the situation for another few minutes before giving in. He was never going to figure out what was going on if he didn't just go down there and talk to the girl. Daud picked a window on the opposite side of the floor above to go in through and then went down to greet them. "Empress," he greeted.

Emily Kaldwin visibly jumped, and the old man with her drew his pistol to point at him. Daud was neither surprised nor upset at having a gun drawn on him. "I was told you wanted to speak with me?"

Emily swallowed and got off of the box she'd been on. She brushed the dust off her white pants and cleared her throat. Daud had to admit he was impressed by how she was facing him. She had to be terrified, considering he was the one that killed her mother. But she was hiding that feeling fairly well, he thought. "Yes. I have a job I want you to do."

"I would think I'd be the last person you'd want to hire," Daud said.

"I already can't trust anyone, so if I can't trust anyone anyway, I should at least get the best," Emily said.

Daud wasn't sure how to take that. The idea that the Empress couldn't trust anyone was a little alarming. "So, what's the job?"

"I need you to save my Father."

"Your Father..."

"Corvo Attano," Emily said. "Admiral Havelock has been keeping him from me and forcing him to get rid of people he doesn't like."

Daud had wondered what had happened to Corvo Attano after he broke out of Coldridge. Since he never showed up anywhere, the prevailing rumor was that he'd ended up dying from injuries he got in Coldridge before he could do anything. "So, he's the Masked Felon?" He'd had his suspicions about the Masked Felon and how he'd evaded Daud's men on multiple occasions, but there hadn't been much evidence to name a definite culprit.

Emily gave a slight nod. "They're making him. And if I don't do what they say they've threatened to kill him."

"Do you have any idea where he is?" Daud asked.

"They move him so I can't find him. But Havelock is sure to know where he is," Emily said.

Daud eyed Emily for a moment. "So you just want him back. Nothing against the ones keep him?"

"You can kill them or don't. Once they don't have Corvo anymore, I don't have to do what they say. And then I can handle them if you don't," Emily said. Daud was both surprised and a little wary. It seemed too good to be true that she wouldn't want him to also kill her advisors. Then again, as Empress, she had other options open to her. "If you bring Corvo back... I'll pardon you."

Daud had definitely not expected that. "What?"

"I'll pay you with a pardon if you bring me my Father. That's the job. Take it or get out of Dunwall," Emily said. Her eyes were watering, and honestly, Daud was surprised she hadn't broken down into tears earlier.

"... I'll do it," Daud said. He didn't even really need the pardon to do it. Corvo was only in this situation because he'd been blamed for Daud's actions. Daud knew what it was like to be turned into a killer. The men who had trained him had been very good at it. To hear that there were men like that now in charge of Dunwall? Well, Daud couldn't abide that any more than he could a mystery.

Emily's eyes widened. "You will? I mean, good," she said, clearly forcing her excitement back down. "Like I said, Admiral Havelock should know where he is right now. He's probably in one of Lord Pendleton's houses. He has a lot of them, though."

Daud nodded. "Then unless there's anything else?"

"They've got some kinda contraption on him," the boatman suddenly said. "Sokolov and Piero Joplin made it. Works like them arc pylons only smaller. It'll kill Corvo if they activate it."

"Then we won't let them activate it."

* * *

Daud slipped into the bedroom of Admiral Havelock at Dunwall Tower. He had given himself the most magnificent chamber which was supposed to go to the Emperor or Empress, which was proof enough to Daud how Havelock really saw himself. Havelock wasn't currently in the tower, so Daud took his time to rifle through everything.

There was a safe in the room, and in the safe was a stack of audiographs. Well, that seemed helpful. Daud picked one up off the top and put it into the player sitting on the nearby desk. Havelock's voice started playing.

**"Finding out Corvo has no tongue was a stroke of good fortune. Since he can't taste the Valeria, I didn't have to worry about overpowering the whiskey. And considering how much it took to finally knock him out, that could only be a good thing. I've told Emily that Corvo is off scouting for another mission. Martin seems to think that only a few days in the cage should have Corvo behaving himself, but I'm doubtful. The man's been through Coldridge and underwent torture. I think it'll take more than three days to break him."**

Daud frowned and selected another audiograph from the pile.

**"Between the Valeria and the idea of never seeing Lady Emily again, Corvo's been much more docile. Of course, we had to stop giving him the Valeria in order for him to go out and capture Sokolov for us; we wouldn't want him falling from a roof and breaking his neck or something. Once he returned and we managed to get him back in the cage, he resorted to some sort of a hunger strike, I think. But, eventually, he'll have to start eating again."**

**"Sokolov is being stubborn, but I'm sure we can get him to tell us who Burrows' Mistress is. How hard can a Natural Philosopher be to break?"**

Daud wondered how they had managed to get Corvo into a cage the second time around. Without drugs involved. He had a feeling it wasn't by asking nicely.

 **"Damn Corvo!"** Havelock's voice rang out from the third audiograph being played. **"I told him to kill the Lady Boyle, not have her go missing! Martin says 'at least she's gone,' but that's not the point. We need Corvo to obey us; otherwise, we can't risk letting him out. I overheard Piero saying he kept the blueprints for some of the things he invented for the Golden Cat. I'm sure with a little modification, we can come up with something to make sure Corvo follows instructions next time."**

**"Emily's getting insistent that she wants to see Corvo, and it's getting harder to put her off. But, if we don't have control, the second that Corvo sees her, he's going to grab her and take off. Without Emily, our plans fall apart. So, we have to make sure Corvo won't dare try to escape with her."**

Daud didn't like any of the things he was hearing.

**"Well, that punishment might have been a bit more... intense than I had imagined. But I think Corvo got the point. Burrows is the only one left -aside from whatever assassin he actually used to kill the Empress. Corvo is still refusing to eat, but he did accept some water. We made sure to lace it with a hefty dose of Valeria before giving it to him."**

**"Piero's genius may save us again. In the blueprints he turned over to me, I found a collar of some sort. It's supposed to be able to give mild electric shocks to the wearer at the press of a button. The most fascinating thing about it, though, is that it uses some sort of wireless signal. Truly, it's genius. Ahead of its time, for sure. Of course, a mild shock won't stop a man like Corvo. We'll have to make sure it has more stopping power."**

That would be the device the old man with Emily spoke about, Daud assumed. A wireless electric shock. It really was ahead of its time, and Daud was already wary of it. He selected another off the pile, closer to the bottom this time as the ones on top seemed older.

 **"Martin's taken over handling our new assassin,"** Havelock said. **"I'm still annoyed that he didn't just kill Burrows. I suppose it helps legitimize our authority, but now we have to deal with a trial and executing him. That gives a chance for him to weasel out of it—such a headache. But, now that I'm in charge, I have access to all the resources of the Crown. The Tallboy medication worked wonders. We sent him out after Lord Creighton, and he ran the old man through with his sword.**

Daud scowled. Those damn drugs they give Tallboys. That would be a problem. He'd have to find out if the drugs were addictive or not. Daud hoped they weren't.

**"Martin's been acting odd. He's giving out rewards to the killer. Like he's an Overseer's hound. It's a bit disgusting to see, actually, but Martin insists it'll build loyalty to give some 'positive reinforcement' sometimes. I've never been much of a dog person..."**

Daud skipped several more audiographs in the sequence.

**"He had a relapse, as I knew he would. I told Martin his methods wouldn't work. He didn't actually kill Overseer Khulan. We needed that man dead. Khulan is threatening Martin's position as High Overseer. So, we had to drag him out to get a punishment again. Next time, he should think twice about disobeying us."**

**"Pendleton has an apartment outside of Draper's Ward. We'll be putting him there for now. I _had_ wanted to move him outside of Dunwall altogether, but until we ensure we have control of him again, I'd rather he be nearby."**

Daud collected the audiographs from the safe along with a pocket watch. So, he was going out past Draper's Ward. Easy enough. It shouldn't be hard to find out which of the homes in that area belonged to Pendleton. Although, Daud was worried about what sort of state they would be finding Corvo in. The word punishment never boded well, in Daud's experience. Not to mention the fact that Corvo had now been held captive in one way or another for a year. Daud would select his best whalers, and they would move out tonight.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me (yesterday): Alright let's focus on a different fic!
> 
> Me (today, after staring at blank page for a while): ... fine! More Corvo angst. Are you happy brain?!  
> my brain: yesh :P
> 
> So yeah. Have another update.
> 
> WARNING! There is a detailed description in the chapter of facial disfigurement. If that is something you'd rather avoid. Skip the paragraph that starts with "Corvo Attano's face"

Corvo did his best to remain calm, but he was in quite a lot of pain. The only plus of his situation was that the pain helped him focus a little bit. He remembered his name for once and that he wasn't supposed to eat the food they gave him. He remembered Jessamine, although he'd never be able to describe her in detail for the life of him. She was a name in his mind that brought forth an intense mix of feelings.

Corvo was almost glad when various parts of his body started to lose feeling. Because while the pain helped him cut through the drugs, he was so incredibly tired of feeling it. He just wanted it all to stop. He was beyond exhausted on so many different levels. Maybe he should just find a way to end this himself. Corvo didn't particularly want to, but his endurance had long since run out, and he couldn't see any way for things to improve.

His head started to fall from lack of energy, but the sharp metal tines dug into the soft flesh under his jaw. Corvo forced his head back up because, if he didn't, he'd impale himself. He heard a door open and footsteps approaching. Corvo couldn't have turned to look even if he wanted to.

Another door opened, this one much closer, and that man came into the room. This man... Corvo scrambled for a name but came up with nothing. He recognized him, though—the Overseer. When too addled to keep any thoughts straight, the man was 'Sir' because Overseer had been too long for his constantly confused mind. The person that Corvo saw most often now. The Overseer knelt down beside where Corvo was forced to be. He reached out and pet Corvo's head. He would have recoiled, but the metal propped between his chin and the base of his throat made that impossible. "You know I hate having to do things like this to you," the Overseer said.

Corvo didn't believe the Overseer one bit that he 'hated' doing things like this. He seemed to have far too many horrible things ready at the drop of a hat for him to not have already spent much time thinking them up. "I don't understand why you continue to be so disobedient. Is it really so hard for you?" the Overseer asked. "Don't I treat you well?"

Corvo felt the painful jab of guilt hit him. He... he did. Usually. Without the Overseer, Corvo was certain he'd never get the chance to clean himself or walk outside. Corvo wasn't even sure what he'd done wrong. What order he hadn't followed. It must have been something... Obviously, it had been a mistake to not do what he was told since he was here. But his mind couldn't recall what exactly got him here.

The Overseer sighed and continued to pet Corvo's hair. "I have a meeting today with Admiral Havelock-" Corvo struggled to put a face to that name. He knew it sounded familiar. A man in a red coat? With a rather ugly face that constantly looked unhappy. A big burn on the side- no, no that was someone else... who was that? "-take too long. When I return, I hope to find you've thought about what you did," the Overseer said. "Then, if you want to apologize for being disobedient, I will think about accepting it."

Corvo couldn't stop the noise from escaping his throat, although he wasn't even entirely sure what he was trying to communicate. The Overseer shushed him like an animal. It burned Corvo to be treated like that, but he knew better than to react outwardly since that only made it worse. "I know you're upset, but you need this. The Admiral is right. Discipline is important. So, you stay here and think about how to be better," the Overseer said.

The Overseer leaned forward and pressed his lips to one of the few places on Corvo's skin that wasn't twisted and deformed. Corvo screwed his eyes shut as he felt hot tears forming. He didn't know why he was crying. It didn't hurt in the least, but he couldn't control the reaction.

"I promise when I get back, the first thing I'll do is let you out. But until then, you have to be good and think about what you did, alright?" the Overseer said before getting to his feet. "It won't be long." Corvo could do nothing but watch anxiously as the Overseer left the room. Directly in front of where he was forced to kneel was a large mirror that Corvo couldn't turn his head away from. It displayed how hideous he was, and he could not look away. Corvo was left alone, his body trembling with pain and anxiety and fear.

* * *

Daud needed to get the key that was apparently keeping Corvo Attano imprisoned. According to Emily, either Havelock or High Overseer Martin would have the keys. Daud searched Admiral Havelock's room with his Void Gaze. It took a few scans of the room to notice it, but he eventually found the key he was looking for hidden inside the fireplace. Daud was just glad that Havelock apparently didn't keep the key on him.

With everything he needed for his rescue, Daud slipped out of Dunwall Tower to go back to the Flooded District. He had an assault to plan and a man to rescue.

Daud considered carefully who to take with him on his raid of Pendleton's apartment. He wanted the most capable that could handle anything, but he also didn't want a large team. Daud had no idea what he was walking into in terms of Attano's condition. Too many people might put Attano on the defensive -especially with the Whaler masks involved, which Attano couldn't possibly have good memories of. But, if he'd been abused badly -as Daud assumed was the case- there was no telling what could trigger a bad reaction. Daud would like to minimize the chance of making more trauma for the man if at all possible. So, keeping all that in mind, Daud picked out a team of three. Thomas, Rulfio, and -should a more feminine touch be needed- Galia.

The building they discovered Pendleton owned a unit in was a large brick structure on the corner of Ichabod and Prewitt Hill Streets. The building was newer and had a curved corner facade rather than the sharp angles that were more common in Dunwall. Dark green trim framed windows, and metal balconies were sprinkled along the upper stories. Judging by the lights mounted outside, the building had just been renovated recently. Probably just before the Rat Plague came to Dunwall.

According to some papers in the manager's desk, Pendleton owned apartment fifteen, which was located on the fifth level in the corner slot of the building. That meant it was larger than most of the others but also had more windows. One window was left wide open, and that served as the perfect entry point.

The three Whalers and Daud stepped through the window and into a bedroom. A large portrait of the surviving Pendleton was on the wall -clearly painted by Sokolov. Although, if Daud remembered anything from his time in the Academy about art... it didn't look like Sokolov had done Pendleton a single favor. Unusually sloppy brushwork and flat colors for one of Sokolov's paintings.

There was a large accumulation of bottles around the room, most of which were empty. The Whalers did a quick sweep: pocketing a few expensive items, checking in drawers, and looking for any indication of where they might find Attano in the apartment. "There's a key here under this lampshade," Rulfio said. "Tag says pantry."

"Strange for a Lord to keep the key to his pantry so close by," Daud said. That was his first inclination of where to go. They would just have to find out where that pantry was. Probably near the kitchen.

They moved out of the bedroom and further into the apartment. The place was filled with antiques and expensive finishes. Daud activated his Void Gaze and scanned the apartment. There was someone in the western wing that went parallel Prewitt Hill Street. A man doing something repetitive. Chopping. Must be a servant in the kitchen.

Daud blinked to bring his normal vision back. "This way."

The Whalers continued to pocket loose coins and small valuables as they quickly went through the house in the direction of where Daud had seen the servant through the walls. "Sir," Thomas said during a quick, cursory sweep of what looked like a study.

Thomas held up a book. "Looks like Pendleton's journal."

Daud took it and quickly flipped through the pages. Perhaps a more concrete location for Attano would be written inside. A lot of the entries that Daud glanced through had handwriting that devolved as it went down the page. Considering the nearly empty whisky bottle and glass on the desk, Daud assumed that was the cause. Daud reached the last page of the journal and skimmed the entry.

> _This is getting out of hand. I never signed up for this sort of thing. The Empress is going to have us all killed. Or thrown into Coldridge. But, I'm not sure how to untangle myself from Havelock and Martin. At this point, I'm up to my neck in it, and I don't like it. I'm hoping my marriage to Esma Boyle will procure me at least some amount of protection. She is very rich, after all._
> 
> _Perhaps if I go to the Empress and offer to help, she might be more willing to give leniency. After all, I've never done anything against Corvo. I wouldn't even have him in my house if the others didn't insist on it. I hate having him here. And having to pay all those men to lug that cage around and then keep quiet is a strain on my already flagging estate! Perhaps I can convince Havelock to put Corvo at one of his properties next time. He doesn't have as many options, but why does it always have to be at one of my homes? _
> 
> _At least, ignoring the Valeria, he's not expensive to feed. I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't just have Wallace make him porridge and soup and be done with it._
> 
> _This is so very maddening. I can't wait to get rid of him._
> 
> _For now, the cage is in the boiler room. At least until Martin returns and finishes the 'punishment,' whatever that entails. I'd rather not know. Wallace will clean up anything after the fact._

Daud frowned and closed the book. Nothing particularly useful other than the fact that Corvo was actively being drugged still and that he wasn't being fed very much. "He mentioned a boiler room. Probably in the basement. We'll check there if Attano isn't in the apartment," Daud said before dropping the book on the desk and continuing down the hall.

It didn't take too long to reach the kitchen. A man in a brown coat was chopping up what looked to be an onion extremely finely while something bubbled away on the nearby stove. Wallace, if Pendleton's journal was accurate. The Whalers automatically found prime positions around the slightly cramped kitchen as Daud took the lead. "Put the knife down, and turn slowly."

The man froze in place. He did as he was told and even held his hands up slightly. "The Empress sent you?" he asked.

Daud nodded. "Where is Attano?"

Wallace lifted one hand slightly and then pointed. Daud followed his finger to a door on the other side of the room. Thomas was closest, so he went over and tried to open it. "Lord Pendleton has hidden the key while he went out," Wallace said. "I don't think he trusts me anymore."

"This one?" Rulfio asked as he held up the key he'd found hidden in the lamp. Wallace nodded, and Rulfio tossed it across the room to Thomas.

Thomas quickly unlocked the pantry and opened the door. It was a small room with shelves of food and a single sink. "There's a set of stairs that pull down from the ceiling," Wallace said. "Leads to the attic."

Daud went to check and, after a moment with his Void Gaze, found the latch. "I suggest, if you don't want your Lord to find out what you've been up to, you leave now," Daud said over his shoulder at the man while pulling the staircase down.

The stairs creaked loudly as he went up them. The attic was dark and full of dust. A few boxes were stored up among the rafters, as well as what looked like some furniture covered in sheets. There was a door on one side that light was leaking out from under.

Activating his Void Gaze yet again, Daud saw a bright yellow person hunched down on the floor beyond that door. "He's in there. Remember, we've no idea how bad he's been treated," Daud murmured to his Whalers. He waited until each of them gave a nod of acknowledgment and then went to open the door.

The room beyond the door was small. The floor was made of rough concrete, and the walls were drafty wooden panels. A large mirror was hanging on one wall, and a surprisingly bright light was hanging from the rafters above.

In the middle of the small room was a thin figure bent low in front of the mirror. Daud had steeled himself against seeing something unpleasant, but he still wasn't entirely ready for what he saw. Attano was nude, which allowed Daud to count ribs and see the patchwork scars across his too-pale skin. There were still bloody lash marks across his back that would need cleaning and possibly some stitches. His arms had been twisted back into something that looked incredibly uncomfortable and held there with thick leather straps, and his legs were similarly bound underneath him. A heretic's fork was under his chin, and blood was dripping down his throat where Attano had clearly dropped his head momentarily and gouged himself. But, what by far was most shocking, was his face.

Corvo Attano's face was heavily scarred. His natural lips were gone, and the stretched, somewhat twisted shape of burn scars covered his lower face, neck, and even higher up his cheeks. The tip of his nose had been burned away, and one of his nostrils seemed oddly melted into the rest of his face. The lower part of his left ear was gone. A good portion of skin on his face was lighter than it should have been. Deep knife scars crossed his face as well like he had gotten into a fight with a rabid dog. There was a particularly deep cut that went from the center of his forehead down across the bridge of his nose and into his burned cheek. His eyes seemed to have escaped damage, which seemed to be a minor miracle as his right eyelid was twisted and melted into a strange form. His eyelashes of that eye and part of his eyebrow were gone. Attano's eyes might not have been damaged, but they were haunting. There was a frightening lack of life in them, and they were surrounded by dark circles.

Daud had never in his life seen such extensive scarring so focused on one part of a person's body. It was a vicious attack, and now Corvo was being forced to stare at himself and all the damage he had survived. Daud stepped forward and then in front of Corvo so that he no longer was forced to stare at the mirror.

"Outsider's Eyes, what did they do to him?" he heard Galia breathe. She probably intended to be quiet, but with how utterly silent the attic was, her words were still too loud.

"That -is the true face of Dunwall, men," Daud said. An innocent person brutalized by people who'd somehow stolen power and authority. "We're going to get you out of here, Attano." He reached out and undid the buckle that kept the heretic fork in place and carefully removed it. Corvo's head immediately dropped.

"Rulfio, go back downstairs, get him something to wear." Rulfio disappeared instantly to do as he was told. There was a metal collar around Corvo's neck that had been under the leather strap. It was thick and heavy-looking with little cylinders in a row all the way around. A lock was in the front. Daud pulled out the key he'd stolen from Havelock and tried it. He had to admit to a certain amount of relief as the collar clicked open and Daud could remove it.

Daud tried to not touch Corvo too much since he didn't know how the man would react and undid the tightly buckled straps keeping him so tightly compressed. After struggling with them for a moment, Daud's patience ran dry. "Thomas, come cut these," he ordered.

Daud noticed Corvo trembled as Thomas came closer. But his second was fast enough that Daud didn't even have a chance to tell him to back away before the leather was sliced through. Thomas did immediately step back, though, and Corvo's shaking receded. Daud was a little surprised that Corvo _wasn't_ obviously reacting to Daud's presence right in front of him, but was willing to take what boons he could get.

"Attano. Can you stand at all?" Daud asked as he tossed the leather straps off to the side.

Corvo didn't respond; he just stayed slumped there on the ground with his head bowed. Daud glanced up at Galia and indicated Corvo with his chin. Perhaps he would respond to a female voice more than Daud's. As far as Daud knew, no female would have been involved in hurting him. Galia took off her mask so that her voice was not muffled at all and hung it on her belt before edging forward and kneeling beside Corvo. "Lord Protector?" Corvo's entire body flinched violently. Galia cringed. "... Corvo?" she tried instead.

There wasn't a flinch this time, at least, so Daud assumed it was better. Daud didn't want to think too hard on why Corvo's title had caused such a reaction. "We're going to help you get out of here. Emily sent us."

Corvo tilted his head but didn't look up. Rulfio reappeared with an arm full of clothes. "Try these," he said before tossing them to Daud. Daud caught them with one hand and nodded at Rulfio. Untangling the clothes, Daud found a shirt and shook it out before gently putting it over Attano's bare back. "Can you stand?" Galia asked.

There was a long pause, and finally, Corvo responded. He nodded ever so slightly, but Daud would take a slight nod over nothing at all. "Good," Galia said. "We'll help you up, alright?" Corvo inclined his head again. Galia and Daud each took hold of one of Corvo's arms and helped him get to his feet.

Thomas let out a harsh breath as they got a good look at Corvo's front. The scars here were just as bad as the rest of his body. But the worst was a deep fresh mark over his heart. Someone had painstakingly carved a large, ornate H over his heart. Blood was still dripping down his front. Part of Daud distantly wondered what the H stood for. Several options came to mind, and he liked absolutely none of them.

Corvo swayed unsteadily, but Daud kept him from collapsing. Daud continued to keep Corvo upright as Galia slowly coaxed Corvo into the clothes that Rulfio had collected. If it weren't so utterly sad, it might have been comical how Lord Pendleton's fine silk shirt and tailored pants looked on Corvo. Corvo was taller and had wider shoulders than Pendleton, although his frame was currently thin enough that the clothing still somehow hung awkwardly off him. The pale cream shirt turned crimson as Corvo's blood seeped into the weave.

"Come on," Daud said. "Let's get you somewhere safe..."

They started moving, but they hadn't gotten further than the pantry door before Corvo suddenly slumped over entirely. Daud staggered under the unexpected need to support _all_ of Corvo's weight. Corvo had passed out. "Probably for the best," Thomas said. "He looks like he needs a lot of medical assistance, and he's not moving very fast. It'll be easier to carry him."

Daud had to admit that was probably true. "I'll do it," he said. This was his fault in a way, and Corvo hadn't reacted as badly to Daud's presence as he had to Thomas. If Corvo regained consciousness along the way, Daud would rather be the one to take whatever his reaction would be.


	7. Chapter 7

Daud wasn't happy with how light Corvo was. A man his size should have definitely been a good twenty pounds heavier than he was. Daud didn't particularly want to heave Corvo over his shoulder to carry him like a bag of flour. Since he didn't know the man's full condition after so long of abuse, it could conceivably hurt him more, so he carried him in his arms instead. It would be more awkward, but Daud decided that the trade-off was worth having. Plus, he had several other Whalers with him should something happen.

Before they left the apartment, they were stopped by Wallace. The man handed over a bundle of things, including a mask that looked more than a little like a skull. "These are Lord Attano's things. He... doesn't like being seen without his mask on," Wallace said.

"You've been making his food, haven't you?" Thomas asked.

Wallace nodded. "I'm not sure what he went through in Coldridge, but between having no tongue and difficulty swallowing, his diet is limited. And he doesn't always eat it all anyway."

"And you've been giving him the drugs that way?"

Wallace cringed. "At first, I would make the food, and Admiral Havelock or High Overseer Martin would take it to him. They kept the Valeria themselves and would put it in his food or drink randomly. I tried not to give it to him when they let me take him his food regularly... but when I stopped giving it to him, he started having... bad side-effects."

"How bad?"

"Sokolov said it sounded like seizures. They didn't allow Sokolov to take a look at him to know for sure. I was afraid that he'd get into trouble and I couldn't reach him, so I kept giving it to him. I put what I have in the bag with his clothes and weapons," Wallace said with a nod to the bag that Rulfio had. "I didn't know what else to do."

"What about the Tallboy medication?" Daud asked. "Is he addicted to that too?"

"I... don't know anything about that," Wallace said. "I didn't even realize they were giving him anything else..."

"We'll have to watch for that," Daud said. "But let's go. I'd rather get him somewhere safe where he can get looked at."

"I'm going to Dunwall Tower. The Empress has said she'll ensure my safety," Wallace said.

"Tell her we'll send someone with an update after we get Corvo some medical assistance," Daud said. "It's best for now that he be given a chance to recover." Wallace nodded and then gave his goodbye before leaving the apartment.

Daud and his Whalers quickly left as well. Although, Daud noticed that Rulfio had slashed the crotch out of Lord Pendleton's painting on his way out, and Daud couldn't say he disapproved.

They made a quick trip back to Rudshore with minimal difficulties. Corvo didn't stir, but Daud didn't like the wet feeling of blood on his hands. The fact that the man was still bleeding even hours after he'd been injured was not the best sign, but he had no idea what side effects the drugs they'd been giving him had caused. Valeria by itself wasn't the most addictive substance, so whatever they had mixed it with to become more potent probably was the cause of his dependency.

Before going to get Attano, Daud had ordered a room cleaned and prepared for him. It was near their makeshift medical ward but didn't have any broken out windows or rubble in it. He'd done it because he'd assumed that the Lord Protector wouldn't want to be around Whalers. Now he was glad because, if Daud were as injured as Corvo, he would want privacy more than anything else.

Montgomery was a man with iron-clad composure. He'd seen all sorts of injuries on the Whalers in his time as their doctor and never flinched. When Montgomery saw Daud lay Attano down on the bed, his brow furrowed. Daud quickly relayed all the information that he'd managed to get about what they had done to the Lord Protector while Montgomery opened the stained silk shirt for his examination.

"The bone charm for healing would be useful, but I want to clean these cuts up first. See how deep they go," Montgomery said as he carefully wiped the blood off of Corvo's chest. "And we'll have to start weaning him off the drugs slowly."

Daud nodded. He would like to quickly get Corvo off the drugs but also knew that it would take as long as it would take. Daud himself didn't have much patience for healing, but hopefully, Corvo would be a less frustrating patient for Montgomery to deal with. "Get with Cleon to make sure we're able to feed him what he needs," Daud said. "He's too thin."

"Hopefully, the withdrawal doesn't douse his appetite," Montgomery said. "He doesn't have much fat to burn through. But Cleon and I will see what we can do for him." Montgomery carefully pried the sleeping man's mouth open and examined the damage within. "There's a lot of scarring here. No wonder the servant you spoke with said he had trouble swallowing. He's missing a couple molars in the back, although I have no idea if that happened before or after all of this. It shouldn't interfere with what chewing he can do, though. The missing tongue is more of a problem there."

"Communicating with him will be a problem," Daud said. "We'll have to have him write until we figure out something better. I don't think he's had a chance to learn any sort of sign language seeing how he lost his tongue in prison and has been held captive for months."

"I've never failed to accommodate a patient. I won't start now," Montgomery said.

Daud nodded. "Do you need any help here?"

"I need to see his back. If you could hold him upright for me?"

Daud was very glad that Corvo was unconscious. He didn't think the other man would be nearly this cooperative if he was awake. And, if he wasn't able to handle the exam, who knew the sort of complications that might arise from his injuries. Daud let Corvo lean against him as Montgomery washed the blood off of Corvo's back and examined the lash marks.

After washing Corvo's back, Montgomery brought over medicinal cream and gently rubbed it into the lash marks. "These should heal fine. Some of these scars might even reduce with the healing charm. But, I'm not about to fully submerge an unsuspecting, unconscious man..."

"No, that wouldn't be a good move," Daud agreed. It was a bit of a pain that the bone charm in question required the person to be fully submerged in water to use it.

Montgomery continued his exam, occasionally muttering a curse or frowning at what he found, while Daud helped in whatever way Montgomery needed. Usually, that entailed shifting Corvo on the bed or holding him in a certain way so that Montgomery had both hands free. Once he was done with his cursory exam, Montgomery went to get some additional medical supplies.

Daud pulled the covers of the bed up over Corvo's newly bandaged chest and then sat back to wait. Part of him was absolutely sure he should be meeting with the Empress and giving her an update, but another part of him was reluctant to leave Attano alone in case he woke up as suddenly as he'd lost consciousness. Waking up in an unfamiliar place was bound to cause confusion and Corvo was clearly already muddled from drugs. Daud didn't want to make things even worse by there not being someone to explain what was going on when Corvo finally woke up.

Daud folded his arms over his chest and tried to organize his thoughts as best he could while he waited for Montgomery to return. A year in captivity. Being deliberately disfigured and had the primary method of communication stripped away. Kept drugged seemingly all the time. Blackmailed and threatened... Daud had been through his own nightmare by the men that had taken him as a child, but it hadn't been remotely like what Corvo Attano had been put through. There were obviously degrees of suffering, and Daud had never come near this level. And Daud didn't even know it all.

The mentions of a cage were worrisome. Daud hadn't gone to the boiler room and investigated, so he didn't know how bad that had been. If it was able to be 'lugged around' by men Pendleton hired, it couldn't have been very big. Or was that just how they moved Corvo from place to place? Daud didn't know and didn't particularly want to find out. Daud wasn't sure why they would keep Corvo in a cage at all if they already had in play a collar that could kill the man in an instant. Surely, both were not necessary...

Montgomery came back into the room with a bin full of different medical supplies. Montgomery silently set to work in tending to Corvo's other wounds and carefully dripping elixir into Corvo's mouth. Daud mostly just sat there and watched while he thought. The first problem to tackle -aside from the obvious physical wounds- was Corvo's dependency on the drugs that he'd been given. If he was anything like Daud, it had taken a _lot_ of sleeping drugs to knock Corvo unconscious. And, considering they'd been dosing him with it for months at this point, they'd probably had to up the amount they gave him. Meaning the amount he was being given was probably at dangerous levels.

Then, once he was detoxed, they would tackle the communication problem. If they had just cut out Corvo's tongue alone, it would be easier. As a child, Daud had known a man without a tongue who could still speak. Some noises were impossible, of course, and it took a little getting used to, but the man had been able to make himself known. But Corvo not only was missing his tongue but had bad scarring in his mouth and throat. Depending on how deep the damage went, it could have damaged his vocal cords as well. That would mean sign language and writing. Daud himself only knew the basics of various kinds of signs. Enough to get by on the streets where quite a few thugs had been rendered mute in one way or another. Daud would teach what he could and was sure that the Empress would find someone actually fluent to fill in the gaps. Corvo would hopefully be well enough to rejoin the Empress by then anyway.

Once Corvo could communicate properly, then it was when the real work would have to start. Daud may not know precisely what the other man had been through, but he'd worked with enough traumatized street kids in his time running the Whalers to know that trauma left its grubby fingerprints all over everything. No small part of why Daud had been so reluctant to take in the hounds had been because Misha was so utterly terrified of any and all dogs due to childhood trauma. (Misha had insisted it was fine and Daud shouldn't decide things just for them. As if Daud was unaware Misha had taken to rooftop travel since getting the beasts)

Montgomery finished with what he could do for Corvo and straightened. "We'll have to wait until he wakes up to try and treat him further. I'd like him to eat sooner rather than later, but he seems to need the rest," Montgomery said as he wiped his hands off. "I take it you're going to wait in here?"

Daud inclined his head. "I'm not sure how much he was aware of when we found him. Best to explain it again once he wakes up." Plus, Daud didn't feel quite right in just leaving Corvo here unattended in his current condition. He wasn't sure why. Corvo wasn't one of his men, and he wasn't likely to take comfort in Daud's presence, seeing how it was Daud's fault he was like this. But that didn't change the fact that he felt he needed to do this. Perhaps _because_ it was his fault.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally a little bit of comfort! Just a touch but you gotta start somewhere.

He heard talking nearby. The people were being quiet, but he could still hear them, although he didn't recognize the voices either. "-longer than expected. It's been almost fourteen hours."

"Yes, but considering his condition, I wouldn't begin to worry until he reached sixteen hours. He needs the rest to heal."

"Sixteen. Really?"

"With so much isolation having his sleep pattern thrown off is probably the least of the side effects, so yes. We can expect him to sleep a lot until he readjusts."

"And that's safe?"

"It's the reality for now. Forcing him awake would only be a detriment to his healing."

He didn't know who was outside of his nest or who they were talking about, but he had to admit he was curious. He opened his eyes and quickly closed them again when he realized how bright it was. It was never this bright in his nest. He rolled to bury his face in his blankets and then realized that he could feel things against bare flesh. His face was gone! And he was on an actual bed. What? Where was he? How did he get here?

A large hand gently settled on his shoulder. "Attano. Are you alright?" That was the man with the rougher sounding voice of the two that had been talking. He risked turning his head enough to peak out over his shoulder and see who it was: a man with a deep scar that looked like it came very close to taking out an eye. He wore a red coat and had his hair neatly combed back.

The face was familiar. He'd seen it before. But where?

He had to think, but then it came to him. This was the man that had undone the fork for him and stopped the punishment. He felt there was something else there, but that was all that was coming to him right now.

"-vo?"

He blinked, not having been listening to what the man was saying rather than trying to place him. "Corvo? I imagine you're confused, but we've brought you to our base for you to heal up," the man said.

Corvo wasn't sure what he meant by heal up since he didn't feel appreciably worse than usual. He was still trying to place the man beyond being the one who stepped in front of the mirror and blocked his sight. He was sure there was something, but the voice was nothing like anyone else that he remembered. He was usually good with voices, and this man's was distinctive enough that he felt he should definitely be able to pick that out of his hazy memories.

The man was still there looking oddly concerned. Corvo wasn't used to being looked at with concern. "Do you understand, Corvo?"

He nodded. "Do you remember who I am?" the man asked. Corvo assumed the man meant beyond the one who had taken him out of the mirror room, so he shook his head. The man frowned. "I'm Daud." That... felt like it should help more than it actually did. He was sure he'd heard that name before, but nothing was coming to him.

Daud sighed. "I take it that didn't help..." Corvo shook his head. "Montgomery said you might have some memory problems. Let me explain then. I used to be an assassin, but I've recently given that up. I was hired to get you away from Martin, Pendleton, and Havelock by the Empress."

Corvo understood the idea but was still confused. Of those names, only 'The Empress' had any sort of familiarity. "It'll take some time for the drugs to be worked out of your system, and it won't be pleasant," Daud said. "But, it's necessary." Drugs. That's right, they had been drugging him. He remembered rejecting food for days until the starvation simply hurt too much, and he'd give in, or sometimes he didn't but would somehow end up in a haze anyway. He'd never been able to entirely pin the source of the drugs down.

Corvo curled himself up more and hid as much of his hideous scarring behind his arm as he could. "Wallace said you preferred your mask on, but if you start vomiting, we're worried it would be in the way," Daud said. "At least, for now, I'm afraid you'll have to bear with the discomfort."

The door opened, and Corvo shrunk down under the covers as he heard someone cross the room. There were a few murmurs that Corvo didn't try hard to listen to, and then something was put down. Footsteps walked away, and the door opened and closed again.

There was a long pause. "Corvo. Montgomery brought you some food and medicine."

Corvo hesitated. Food did sound good, but it was far too dangerous. He couldn't just eat whatever now that he remembered the inherent vulnerability that the need to eat brought. "Corvo, here, let me show you," Daud said.

He still wasn't entirely sure he wanted to risk it, but Corvo knew obedience hurt less, so he peeked out from under the minor comfort of the blanket. Daud was still sitting there on the edge of the bed. He picked up a large cup of some sort from the side table. Daud looked inside and then tilted the cup so that Corvo could also see the brown sludge in the cup. "Our cook Cleon and Montgomery got together and figured out what would be best for you to get healthy again. This is what they came up with. Admittedly, it doesn't look that great," Daud said. "But it's supposed to have lots of protein and vitamins and all that so you can build your weight back and get anything you've been missing so far."

Corvo was still not sure. He didn't know who either of those people was or what their true intentions were. Daud studied the cup for a moment and then glanced at Corvo. He would have shrunk back, but it was really the shortest glance possible, and Corvo only just registered it before Daud's eyes had moved on. "I know that my promise that there's nothing harmful in this is going to mean nothing to you, so let me prove it," Daud said. Corvo watched, a little surprised, as Daud lifted the cup to his own mouth.

Daud swallowed and then put the mixture on the side table again. He wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. "Right. It's kind of strange, but not as bad as I expected, honestly. I don't know if textures throw you off, but other than being a bit thick, it's alright." Corvo glanced at the cup again, still not entirely convinced but a little more at ease after seeing someone else try it.

Daud picked up a vial lying next to the cup. It was a strange light brown liquid that looked more like rusty water than anything. "This is diluted Valeria in a tea mixture. It wouldn't be safe to just stop giving it to you all at once, so this is for when the withdrawal gets too bad. Even if you drink the whole thing, it won't be anywhere near the strength of what they've been giving you, but it should make you more comfortable. It'll be here on the side table for you to take when you need it."

He had to admit he was surprised that Daud was giving him the option to take the drug when he wanted to and not just making it an order. Some of the tension in his spine relaxed a margin. "There's also water here for you. Montgomery said you're dehydrated, so be sure to drink some."

Corvo glanced at the table. There was a cup and an entire pitcher of water. He wasn't sure how much he trusted an open pitcher of water, but it seemed odd for them to give them drugged water along with something that was identified from the beginning as drugged. Unless it was a way to create a false sense of security. It wasn't like Corvo could tell if the water was tampered with.

"Oh, and this too." Daud reached into his red jacket and pulled out a small book with a stubby pencil. He held both objects up for a moment and then put them on the side table beside the tray of 'food' and liquids. "Feel free to use this to ask for anything or just talk if you need to."

There was a long, awkward pause before Daud nodded. "I think that was everything. Unless you have any questions now?"

He shook his head. It seemed clear what was expected of and from him at this point. Corvo wasn't sure _why_ this was happening exactly, but that wasn't something he'd worried about in a long time. The question of 'why' had never been answered, and so he'd stopped lingering on it for his own peace of mind.

"Right. I'll leave you alone then. Let you rest and recove-"

Corvo grabbed his wrist as he got up, not even sure why he had a sudden surge of panic but reacting before he thought. Daud stopped halfway through standing and looked down with clear surprise. Corvo dropped the other man's wrist and pulled his hand back quickly. He berated himself mentally and curled up tighter. What was he doing? He wasn't supposed to reach out like that. It was presumptuous and needy and _stupid!_ Nobody wanted him grabbing at them!

He stayed tucked into a ball under the covers with his eyes screwed tightly closed. He hoped Daud was the forgiving type and wouldn't take away any of the things he'd been nice enough to bring him. He felt the bed dip down as Daud sat back down. "Corvo. Is there something else you needed?"

He shook his head furiously under the covers. He was fine. Absolutely perfect. He even had a real bed, some sort of food, and water. He had nothing to complain about. He felt a touch and flinched deeper under the covers before he registered it hadn't been a hit or pinch or anything painful. "Something's clearly wrong," Daud said. "Do you think you can tell me what?"

He couldn't even bring himself to peer out from under the covers, much less think about finding some way to communicate. There was a silence that seemed to stretch for ages, and then Daud shifted. Corvo wasn't sure what was going on or how to react as the single dip beside him turned into a long warm weight pulling the mattress down. The hand on his shoulder shifted, and Corvo was vaguely aware that it felt like an arm was across his side.

Was... was Daud lying down on the bed?

He wasn't sure how to process that. Sir occasionally let him in his bed with him if Corvo'd been very good. He'd soaked up the treat far too greedily each time. Corvo knew it was a weakness of his. But he hadn't been good here so far. There was no reason for Daud to lie down next to him.

Corvo's mind raced as he tried to figure out the new rules and consequences here. Nothing made sense, especially not Daud. It would be easier if Daud had given him a definite list of what he was and wasn't allowed to do. But, since he didn't, all Corvo could think to do was stay curled up in the relatively dim and warm atmosphere under the blankets where his hideous under-face and form was hidden.

He was shaking despite his efforts to remain still. Daud didn't say anything and just stayed stretched out on top of the blankets. Daud was so warm compared to Corvo. Like the one radiant heat pipe that had been through the one basement that Corvo's den was sometimes kept in. Only somehow better in a way that Corvo couldn't quantify. Maybe because of how close Daud was? How much larger a source of heat?

Whatever it was, Corvo found himself shifting closer to Daud without meaning to do so. He didn't realize what he'd done until his scarred flesh was pressed into the solid wall of Daud's side. Daud's arm was still draped over Corvo, and he hadn't said anything, so Corvo decided to pretend like everything was fine despite it being the exact opposite. This was definitely not what he was supposed to be doing. He should have better control of himself, but his self-discipline had melted away like it had never been there.

The gentle rise and fall as Daud breathed was soothingly regular, even if Corvo could barely feel it between the layers of fabric. "I'm sorry all this happened to you, Attano. It never should have." That was strange to hear because Corvo was a heretic, and Sir was clear that this was simply what happened to heretics like him. Corvo wasn't sure why Daud was acting so entirely opposite.

Was Daud waiting for some sort of apology for Corvo grabbing him? If so why, would he lie down like that? Was he trying to say that no matter how long it took, he would get an apology? If so, he should realize that Corvo couldn't give anything verbally. The best he could do was apologize by actions, and he didn't know what would constitute an apology to Daud. Sir had several different ways to apologize depending on what Corvo had done. Some Corvo minded much more than others, but he would do whatever to stay on Sir's better side.

But Daud made no indication that he was even waiting for anything. Corvo felt he was missing something but had no idea what. Corvo pressed himself into Daud's side a little more. Daud still said nothing and gently rubbed Corvo's boney back through the blanket. It was oddly soothing, and slowly Corvo relaxed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, the Outsider... He's so helpful.. says nobody

Daud was trying very hard to remember why he'd sworn off killing. He'd wanted to be _better._ He couldn't take back or 'make up' for all the things he'd done, but if he stopped killing and spent what time he had left making things marginally better... that was good. He'd wanted to do more good things. But, seeing Corvo cowering under blankets and seeking comfort in the presence of the man who'd ruined his life was utterly infuriating, and Daud was taking a bit too much pleasure in imagining High Overseer Martin flayed alive, and Havelock keelhauled, among other things.

Corvo couldn't remember who Daud was. For the moment, that was fine as Daud needed Corvo to trust him enough to take food and medicine. But, it was also uncomfortable. Daud knew that, at some point, they'd have to face the truth that Daud was the cause of everything. He'd taken the job to kill the Empress and had gone through with it. No matter what reasons he'd thought he had at the time, that didn't change the outcome. Daud was wary about the fallout of that reveal but could do little about it. He wasn't going to hide from what he'd done, especially not from Corvo. The man deserved better.

Slowly, Corvo stopped trembling, and Daud gained the impression that the man had fallen asleep again. Despite what Montgomery said, Daud couldn't help but worry over how much time Corvo was spending asleep. Corvo hadn't even taken in any water or food in the time he'd been awake, which was something Daud had been hoping to achieve at a minimum. Daud wasn't sure if Corvo simply didn't trust what he'd been brought or had gotten too upset to eat or drink something.

It was odd having a living, breathing person sleeping next to him. True, the two men were separated by a blanket and thick clothing, but that was still much more than Daud was used to. And it was even stranger to know that it was because, for some reason, Corvo was taking comfort in Daud's presence. Even if Corvo didn't remember Daud and all he'd done, Daud had grown used to being given plenty of space. Daud wasn't what he would consider a comforting presence even to strangers. Even his remaining men, those who had remained loyal through Overseer attack and Billie's betrayal and the whole Delilah ordeal, didn't pick him out for a source of comfort. Oh, certainly they joked around, and some flirted the line between that and outright disrespect, but while they got along, they would pick other Whalers over Daud any day. Pavel even picked going to visit the hounds before he would come to Daud.

Daud wanted to get up and do something. He wasn't used to being idle. But he also didn't want to disturb the man pressed against his side. He'd sent Thomas several hours ago to meet with the Empress' man -the old man with the riverboat- so that Emily could know her Father was safe and she could capture the three that had been behind his horrible treatment. Daud wondered what her plans for the men were. He had ideas if she needed them. Maybe he'd offer them up once Corvo was a little better.

Daud reached into his coat and pulled out a thin metal case. Carefully, he lit a cigarette to give himself something to do while he let Corvo sleep. It didn't occur to him until after a few drags that the smoke might bother Corvo, and he froze. The other man didn't seem to wake up or even notice, but perhaps the blanket he was under helped block the smell. Either way, Corvo slept on, and Daud relaxed again. He wished he knew just what Corvo had been through so that he was more sure in what had to be avoided or not.

He took his time with his cigarette but didn't light a second. He wasn't a particularly heavy smoker, and he didn't need to accidentally trigger Corvo if he _did_ have one and had simply avoided it thanks to his face being pressed to Daud's side under a blanket. Daud stared up at the ceiling, tracing the outlines of water stains with his eyes as he tried to figure out what to do with such limited information. 

He hated working with his intel lacking, but in this case, that was unavoidable. Even if he had a tongue and undamaged throat, Corvo would undoubtedly be unable to explain his trauma in any coherent way. Emotionally and mentally scarring events were like that.

Daud didn't have other sources either. Havelock's audio logs had given only the briefest mentions of some of the ways they'd broken the Lord Protector. Most of what Havelock had rambled about was his plotting and the political angles he was working through his control of Emily. Everything pointed to Martin taking the lead in tearing Corvo apart to then turn the man into an attack dog. Sadly, Daud had yet to find anything Martin recorded (verbally or written) that would hint as to what Corvo suffered. Unlike the vast majority of the Dunwall elite and corrupt, Martin didn't seem fond of confessing to his crimes or allowing others to have proof of his thoughts.

Perhaps that would change once the Empress had him arrested. A man like Martin probably wouldn't talk easily, but that was _fine_. He could hang on as long as he liked for all Daud cared. Let him have a good, varied taste of his own medicine. Was that a bad thought? Daud didn't care. Martin deserved it, and Daud didn't think he could be blamed for returning to his old ways for this case.

For a while, Daud entertained himself with how to best make Martin regret every second of his existence before he forced himself to move on. It probably wasn't healthy to imagine cutting a man off at the knees to force him to crawl. No. Not healthy... but he found it satisfying. He would definitely suggest it to whoever the Empress got to take care of her three 'advisors.' 

At first, Daud wasn't aware he'd drifted off to sleep. He didn't often take naps, but it was hard not to when lying still for so long being half shield half pillow for Corvo. However, when he registered the faint smell of brine and whale oil and _cold_ Daud realized he had.

He opened his eyes and saw the ceiling had been pulled away and the walls of the room had opened up like an oyster. The world was cast in a faint purple-blue light that didn't seem to have an actual source. Daud scowled. What did the Black-Eyed Bastard want this time? Daud was a little _busy_ to try and parse out what the meddlesome and eternally bored God wanted. And wasn't he supposed to be leaving Daud alone after the Delilah thing? He'd said her name was a 'final gift' or some such nonsense.

"Hello, Daud."

Daud bit back the groan. The Outsider didn't care how annoyed he made anyone, and Daud didn't want to wake Corvo, who was still nestled against his side like a wounded kitten. The Outsider formed floating in a seated position about six inches off the bed near Daud's feet. "Isn't this a fascinating development?"

That... wasn't remotely the word that Daud would use.

"I admit, I was certain I was done with you, Daud. That your story had been exhausted of all interesting twists and turns. I didn't expect _Emily Kaldwin_ of all people to drag you back into things..."

Daud narrowed his eyes. He really didn't like the emphasis on the young Empress' name there. "Don't tell me you're thinking of marking a _child_."

The Outsider's unsettling and unblinking eyes somehow glimmered like an oil slick despite no change in the room's lighting. "I've marked children before."

"Of _course_ you have..." The Bastard would probably find a kid with that sort of power and chaos at their fingertips very 'fascinating' to watch. "Well, don't go doing that to Emily. She's got enough of her plate without you bugging her too."

The Outsider's eyes shimmered again. It was nearly impossible to tell because of the Outsider's generally flat affect, but Daud thought the God was amused. "Fascinating..."

"Bastard. What do you want?"

"Seeing two of my marked in such a situation was too interesting to not take notice of," the Outsider said.

"Corvo's very fascinating, isn't he?" The Outsider asked. "After everything he's been through, all the horror and pain and hardship, he's remained so _good_. So incorruptible. It took drugs and threats and torture to finally make him kill for a reason other than protection. He didn't even use the gifts I gave him unless he had to. I didn't even realize that was a choice to make. I might have to offer it in the future." 

"Just proves how smart he is," Daud said. Not associating with the Outsider definitely would have kept Daud's life far simpler. True, he wouldn't have an entire organization of assassins and thieves and what not to call upon, but he would have survived just fine. Although he wouldn't have been able to help some of the men he had, which wasn't a good thought—those like Misha, Pavel, Javier, and plenty of others.

"And now he's here with you," the Outsider said, again ignoring Daud's comment. "At his lowest point, broken so severely that he doesn't even remember his own name some of the time... And you've decided you're going to be the one to put him back together despite not being able to communicate. But I think we can make things _better_."

Daud didn't have the best track record when it came to the Outsider making things better. "How?"

The Outsider held out his hand. Something seemed to _unburn_ in the air above his palm. Two identical shapes appeared floating around each other like two planets in orbit. They were somewhere between an elongated diamond and a teardrop and about the length of a finger. It looked like the smallest gears Daud had ever seen were spinning behind murky glass, the exact color of the void's impossible changing sky. One second it looked blue, then purple, then green, and then back to blue, all depending on the angle the light hit. Wires were threaded through and around the glass, holding a small, perfectly round, black pearl somewhat off-center in the pieces. Brass strips wrapped around it in places and were darkly burnished at the edges. Chains made of tiny woven wires came off the thin end of both of the things. Pendants? 

The two necklaces disappeared, and Daud felt a warm weight against his sternum. He looked down and saw a glow fading. Pulling open his coat and shirt, he saw the necklace there resting against his skin. The warmth seemed to increase and then decrease faintly. Then again. After a few brief moments, Daud realized it was as regular as a pulse. He looked back up at the Outsider. "What is this?" he demanded.

"A tongue is an easy enough thing to bypass," the Outsider said instead of a straight answer.

And then the Outsider disappeared, and Daud was opening his eyes to the water-stained ceiling again. He reached up and felt the pendant under his clothes still warm and resting against his skin. "Fuck you," Daud grumbled. He really should have done what Corvo had and avoided the Bastard from the start. His life would have been much simpler.

Daud reached up and rubbed his eyes. He doubted he'd be able to just get rid of whatever the Outsider had just 'gifted' to him and Corvo. The Outsider didn't seem the type to let someone just bin something he'd gone to the effort of making and giving to them.

Corvo still hadn't stirred from where he was curled up into an almost frighteningly small ball under the covers. How could a man so tall make himself so tiny?

There was a gentle knock on the door, and Daud told whoever it was to come in. There were only a few people who were allowed to enter this room at the moment. Daud, Montgomery, Cleon, and Thomas. Everyone else had been told very clearly to not come near the door even to look for Daud. 

It turned out to be Thomas who was there. Back from meeting with the Empress' friend. "Just before I got back to Rudshore, I heard announcements already saying that Pendleton was arrested while Havelock and Martin were wanted. Empress Emily moved quickly."

"Good." The quicker she acted, the less chance the traitors would have to flee. Pendleton was honestly the least of Daud's concerns. Havelock had access to ships and Martin the protection of the Abbey. But, if they did get away from Emily's men, Daud wouldn't mind volunteering to drag them back to Dunwall to face their crimes. "Keep an eye on the docks. If any of our men spot Havelock or Martin, have them make sure they get nice and secure lodgings until the Empress can be informed."

"I'll send out patrols," Thomas said. "Unless there's anything else?"

"No. Come inform me if anything changes on that front or if an emergency occurs, but otherwise, I'm going to be here for the foreseeable future," Daud said. Thomas gave a short bow and then disappeared in a cloud of smoke and shadow.

Daud leaned back and pulled the new accessory he had out of his shirt to examine it. There was a faint, warm light coming from somewhere within the glass and gears. It seemed to pulse along with the temperature that he could feel. What was this thing supposed to do? The Outsider said it bypassed the tongue, but how? Daud had a feeling the match to the one he wore now was on Corvo. 

Daud supposed it could also be with Emily, although Daud couldn't reason out why it would be shown to him in the first place if it was going to be given to Emily, so he was sure the pendant was around Corvo's neck. Hopefully, Corvo wouldn't get too upset because there was little use in complaining to the Outsider. Daud tucked the pendant back under his shirt and rested his head on his arm, and let his mind mill about the different possibilities and interpretations of the Outsider's words. There were several ways to 'get around' a tongue. Did the pendant whisper what Corvo wanted to say? Did it make words appear in the glass? Maybe it did some sort of translation?

He had been pondering what the necklace did for nearly fifteen minutes when Daud noticed the pulse at his chest was picking up. He lifted a hand to cover the pendant and pushed himself half up as the necklace became less of a steady, calm rhythm to a frantic bird. He noticed then that Corvo was pressing harder against his side, and Daud could just make out little noises of distress. "Corvo," Daud said, gripping the other man's shoulder and giving a slight shake.

Corvo whined again, but Daud didn't think he'd woken up. "Corvo," Daud repeated a little louder. He didn't want to get too loud or risk frightening the man but letting him suffer through a nightmare wasn't acceptable either. "Corvo!" 

There was a noise like someone choking on air, and Daud had all of Corvo on top of him. The blanket was a tangled mass, but he could feel the emaciated man shaking under it. Daud wrapped his arms around him so that he didn't tumble to the ground or flail and hurt himself. "Corvo, it's alright! You're safe!"

Daud suddenly realized he was being flooded with feelings that weren't his own. Confusion, fear, and pain in a massive wave that took Daud's breath away and made it hard to keep his focus. Luckily, it was just off enough that Daud could recognize that _he_ wasn't feeling the swamp of horrible emotions. Then he heard a tiny voice in the back of his mind. As if someone were standing across a room and trying to speak without raising his voice above a whisper. Broken words that didn't make sense but matched too well to the confusion and fear that Daud was inexplicably feeling. Daud looked down at the blanket-covered man in his arms, and he realized what the Outsider's 'gift' had done.


	10. Chapter 10

He was being held, which was strange. He could hear someone talking to him. A rough warm voice that he didn't immediately recognize. A warm pulsing was radiating from his chest at a calm, steady pace. Slowly, he felt himself relaxing. The terror was still there, but as he focused on the warmth on his skin, he realized his heart was slowing to better match it. The fear in his mind from his dream was slowly being washed away by a layer of calm that he didn't recognize. He wasn't even sure what the source was, but he almost imagined it like a thick but soft blanket that muffled the fear enough to push it back down.

"Corvo? Are you alright?"

He shivered and pressed himself closer to the warm wall he was held against. It took him longer than it probably should have to realize that it was someone's chest, and he should pull away. Nobody wanted his disgusting self draped all over him an- "Hey, enough of that," the man said. "You're not disgusting."

He furrowed his brow. What? He was definitely disgusting. He didn't understand why the man would say otherwise. The man holding him clearly knew enough to know what he'd been thinking somehow, so why would he deny the obvious? The man sighed and rubbed along his boney spine through the covers. "You're not. Just because you've been hurt doesn't mean you're disgusting. Or hideous or any of the other things they might have told you."

He didn't believe that for a second, but it was a nice lie to hear. "Corvo. I'm not lying to you. I won't ever do that, alright?"

It was strange this man could read him so well. Even Sir hadn't been able to pick up quite that accurately what he'd been thinking. The man sighed. "Corvo, I need to tell you something. Do you remember the Outsider?"

Of course, he did. The Outsider was who gave him his mark. Who made him a heretic. Sir was always very certain to remind him if he ever forgot.

There was a ripple in the warmth in his mind. Displeasure. He tightened up to be smaller. He wasn't sure where that came from or why. Luckily, it was wiped away quickly under fresh waves of warmth and comfort. "Sorry, it's not you I'm upset with, Corvo," the man said, rubbing his back again.

What? Why would he say that?

The man -Daud, his name was Daud- sighed heavily. "The Outsider visited while you were sleeping. He gave us these pendants... You can probably feel it. It'll be warm and pulsing."

He reached up to the warmth against his chest and found the pendant there easily. It was indeed the source of the warm sensation. He frowned; he hadn't been wearing anything like that when he'd fallen asleep. He couldn't even recall the last time he'd worn something like that. Never probably. "I think the pendants are linking us somehow. The Black-Eyed Bastard didn't stick around and explain them, as usual. But that's how I know what you're thinking. I can hear you, and I can feel some of what I think you're feeling. I don't like it, and I'm sure you don't either... but the Outsider didn't exactly ask our opinion on it before just doing it."

Corvo struggled to process that information. The words weren't in a different language, but they weren't making much sense to him. "I don't know what the limits to this are or if we can get rid of the pendants or what," Daud said. "I was trying to send you calm thoughts earlier, but I'm not sure if that helped or got through or..." He sighed. "Any sort of instructions would have been nice..."

Was that what those warm feelings were earlier? From Daud trying to help? That would explain why Corvo couldn't place where they were coming from and the sensations' slightly unnatural feel. Like a patch of similar but not quite matching fabric on a coat. Only something he noticed as not originally there when he took a closer look at everything. Corvo wasn't prone to self-reflection -wasn't sure if he'd ever been- but he was glad that he at least now had a source.

"Corvo. I don't know how much of your thoughts I can pick up," Daud said. "So, I'm going to apologize now for if I find out things you don't want me to know."

Corvo wasn't sure what he felt right then. The whole idea was so strange a concept that he didn't think it had sunken in. And he certainly couldn't bring himself to think hard on the deeper implications of it right then. He could probably deal with all of that later. "That's probably a good thing," Daud said. "Don't push yourself to think about things that'll upset you-" _'Wouldn't want to trigger a panic attack.'_ "-I just didn't want you to think I was going to try and take advantage of this."

He didn't want to trigger a panic attack? Had he heard that right? It hadn't seemed like Daud had said that aloud and yet the words had been right there as if he'd whispered it into Corvo's ear. It was intimate, more so than anything else Corvo could recall and made a shiver run down his spine. He wasn't sure if he liked it or not.

"You heard that?" Daud asked.

Wasn't he supposed to?

"Well, I didn't intend for you to, no," Daud said. "But, since I can hear you, I suppose it makes sense you could hear my thoughts too."

Slowly, Corvo pulled the covers enough so that he could expose some of his head. He didn't really want to, as that would show his horrible scarred flesh, but he also wanted to see what was going on around him. "You should probably try to drink or eat something," Daud said. "The food and water from earlier are still here on the table for you."

Corvo was hungry. And thirsty for that matter. But, the idea of just eating and drinking what he hadn't seen be made was... unsettling.

"I know you don't have reason to trust us, Corvo," Daud said. "And I'm not sure how to make it easier for you. The mess is in a completely different building, and Montgomery said it would be best if you rested for now." _'Should I taste it for him again? If he didn't believe it the first time, he had no reason to now.'_

Corvo felt a pang of shame. He was already making things unnecessarily difficult because of his stupid weakness. Daud's arm tightened around him, and only then Corvo realized he was still sitting in the other man's lap. Embarrassment seared him, and he got off. He was acting ridiculous, and he wasn't sure how to get himself back under control. Sir would have known. "Enough of that," Daud said. "Martin is a bastard, and you should try to put him out of your mind. There's no need to feel shame for being cautious about poisoning when you've had it happen so many times before."

Martin. Martin. Overseer Martin... that name was familiar. Stocks. He had been in stocks, and Corvo let him out. It... no, it was too hazy. Corvo let the memory go before it gave him a headache. "Don't push yourself, Corvo," Daud said and picked up the glass of water.

Corvo watched as Daud drank some and then offered it over. Corvo hesitated for a moment, but Daud wasn't reacting as if it was drugged, so he gingerly took the glass. He was thirsty. He didn't know how long it had been since he drank anything. Corvo examined the glass and cautiously sniffed it, but it only smelled like water. Everything pointed to the water being fine. It still took him a minute or two before he took a tiny sip.

It was cool and a relief to his dry throat, but he tempered his desire to down it quickly. If it were drugged, going slow would give him a chance to stop before he swallowed it all. And, he had no idea how much he would get, so he should save some for later. Corvo's grip on the glass tightened as he felt a sudden sharp swell of anger.

Daud cursed. "Sorry. I'm not... I'm not angry at you. You've done nothing wrong, and we won't restrict your water. Drink as much as you want, Corvo."

Corvo eyed Daud cautiously but took another sip from the glass. He didn't know what the rules were here or what the dangers might be. The reassuring warmth that -if he understood right- came from Daud returned, and Corvo was able to loosen his grip on the glass a little bit. Daud sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Corvo focused his attention on the glass in his hand.

"Alright, this is... this is going to be tough," Daud said, and Corvo had a feeling he was saying it more to himself than Corvo. Daud looked at Corvo, but being seen without his face was uncomfortable, so he shifted to block as much as he could with his hair. "I know trust takes time to build, and I don't expect you to do it right away, but I do mean it when I say you're safe here, and I'm not going to lie to you."

Corvo nodded. He didn't really believe it, but he at least understood what Daud was saying. Daud sighed, "I guess that's the best I can really ask for right now." Corvo frowned. He was going to have to get better at what he thought. He didn't want every fleeting thing that came through his brain transmitted to Daud. Daud's thoughts weren't continually popping up. Did he already figure out some sort of control over it? He did seem to figure out how to send those waves of comfort and warmth earlier. Maybe it was because Daud had been a heretic longer, and so he had a better grasp on these sorts of dark artifacts.

If Daud caught that thought, he didn't say anything to it. Corvo sipped the water slowly, savoring every bit of relief that the cool liquid gave. It was surprising that something as simple as water was so very wonderful.

Daud waited until the water was done and then took the glass back. Corvo wrapped his arms around his knees and huddled down in the blankets still wrapped around him. Daud refilled the glass with water from the pitcher and, after making sure Corvo was watching, took another drink from the glass before handing it back. It was surprising to be offered two glasses of water, but Corvo accepted the second faster than he had the first. He was too thankful to question it more.

Corvo could feel the anger coming from Daud again but only for a moment before it was swept away with more of the feelings of warmth. Daud seemed to be deliberately trying to keep calm, which Corvo could only appreciate. He didn't like it when people were angry. It only ever meant bad things for him, usually a punishment of some sort.

"Montgomery and I cleaned up your wounds and bandaged what we could," Daud said. "But he wanted to use a bone charm to help you recover faster. Do you know what bone charms are?"

Corvo nodded a little bit. He could recall the various bits and pieces of bones that he'd found when he was sent out onto the streets. Like the one that seemed to keep the rats away or his favorite two that he had loathed being parted with that made the water he drank energize him and take the pain away. But, the Overseer hadn't let him keep any of his heretical artifacts when he wasn't out on the streets.

"Well, we have one that helps heal wounds. Montgomery thinks it might even help heal some of these scars you have. But you have to be underwater to use it. So-"

Corvo stiffened and felt instantly swamped by fear. If Daud kept talking, he couldn't hear it. All he could think of was that basin of water that the torturer held his head in. The way the water burned his face and his lungs when he was forced to inhale. The water turned pink from the blood coming off from his wounds. The bathtub and Sir telling him to behave. His hand tracing every scar and dip of his horrible body-

 _'Corvo! It's alright! I won't make you go into any water! I swear! Alright, Corvo?'_ Warm waves of comfort swamped his fear like a thick coat smothering a fire. Corvo was trembling, but the steady pulsing of the pendant -hotter than he remembered but not too hot to burn- dragged his attention away from the feeling of his seared flesh stinging. He followed the pattern of the pendant to slow his heart and breathing.

Daud's arm was around him again. Corvo should probably mind, but he had a feeling that Daud's arm was the only thing that had brought him back to the current moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't know they had done things like that to you," Daud said.

Daud rubbed his shoulder, and Corvo realized he was trembling. _'Damn them. What bastards would do this to someone?'_

Corvo ducked his head and went to grab his own arms. Daud caught his hand. "Hold on, Corvo. Your hands are hurt."

Corvo blinked in confusion and looked down at his hands. It was only then he realized that the glass he'd been holding had shattered. The bedding was wet with the spilled water, and glass shards were buried in his hands. Blood was oozing out from around the wounds while they throbbed with pain.

Daud gently took Corvo by the hands and guided him to the edge of the bed. "I'll be careful," Daud said. Corvo could only stare at his palms as Daud started to pull large fragments of glass out of his hands. _'I'm sorry,'_ Corvo thought, hoping that it reached Daud even though he didn't know how this magic worked. He hadn't meant to break anything. He didn't even remember doing it.

"It's not your fault, Corvo," Daud said as he dropped a large shard of glass onto the side table. "You don't need to ever apologize to me, alright?"

Corvo frowned. _'But. I broke it. And got the bed wet.'_

"Only because I triggered a panic attack," Daud said. "That's not your fault." Another shard was pulled free, and Corvo watched as fresh blood welled up and dripped down his finger.

Daud pulled a cloth out of one of his pockets and wet it with water from the pitcher to clean away the blood. A small pile of glass slowly formed on the table as Daud worked away at Corvo's hands. _'Not even flinching...'_ Daud's whisper in his head sounded upset for some reason.

 _'It doesn't hurt much.'_ Corvo thought. Why would he flinch when he had felt so much worse?

"Shit," Daud muttered as he wiped away more blood. Corvo felt Daud's anger again, and Daud shook his head. There was a moment. Then, Daud's unpleasant static of feelings was pushed back and replaced with the warm feeling that Corvo was starting to get familiar with. Daud was trying so hard to keep from getting angry -for Corvo, he was pretty sure. He didn't know why but Corvo was glad that the other man was trying. "I'm sorry. I'm trying, but I'm not used to not getting angry."

Corvo wasn't even entirely sure _why_ Daud was getting so angry. It wasn't as if Daud had done anything.

"No, you're wrong," Daud said. "I did do something. Something horrible."

Corvo frowned. He'd sent that thought to Daud? He had to get better at figuring out how to control his thoughts. What determined what thoughts Daud could hear and which he couldn't? And what did Daud mean he had done something? All Daud had done was take him out of the mirror room.

Daud sighed. "That's not true. We met before. But... I'll tell you about that after you get better if you haven't remembered it."

That didn't sound good, but Corvo didn't want to hear about bad things right now -especially about someone who was being so kind to him for some reason- so he pushed it to the back of his mind. Daud examined Corvo's hands closely for any tiny slivers of glass that he might have missed before washing the blood off again with fresh water from the pitcher. A roll of new bandages was in the table's drawer, and after retrieving them, Daud wrapped Corvo's hands.

Corvo concentrated on Daud receiving his next thought. He wanted Daud to hear it. _'Thank you.'_

Daud paused halfway through, tying off the bandage on Corvo's left hand, and looked up. "You don't have to thank me either, Corvo. Not ever."

_'We should always be grateful to those who give us assistance.'_

"That-" Daud sighed. "I'm not sure that I want to know why it sounds like you're just reciting that... but I'm serious. I'm not doing anything you need to thank me for." Corvo didn't believe that for an instant. "Are you going to be alright if I go and get you dry bedding?" Daud asked.

Corvo thought for a moment and then nodded. He remembered he'd grabbed Daud last time, and Corvo still didn't know why he had, but he was sure he'd be fine this time. "Alright. It shouldn't take long. I'll grab another glass while I'm out too," Daud said as he got to his feet. He used the bloody handkerchief to gather up the glass shards and then silently left the room.

Corvo stared down at the bandages wrapped around his hands for another moment. He wasn't sure what the rules were here, but he couldn't remember the last time someone had tended to a cut or bruise for him. The best he had been able to hope for was the red drink that made the pain go away. So-So-Something he couldn't remember the name of. That was frustrating. He should remember that.

After a minute, Corvo turned his attention to the table with the cup of mostly liquid food that he hadn't eaten before. He was starving. And Daud _had_ drank some without ill effects. The water Corvo drank wasn't making him sleepy or anything. With some hesitation, Corvo gingerly picked up the cup. The brown mix didn't look very good, but he'd gotten used to his food not looking good. And it wasn't like he could taste it anyway. Corvo quickly drained the cup before he could second guess himself and then put it back down. If it _was_ drugged he'd know for sure relatively soon, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thoughts Daud are picking up are a little inconsistent because of Corvo's mental state. As he gets better he'll get finer control over it.


	11. Chapter 11

Daud was paying close attention to the connection between him and Corvo, so he noticed as it faded when he went to the kitchen. He could still feel it there, but the actual thoughts and emotions that weren't his own were no longer reaching him. The pulsing of the pendant he was wearing that seemed to match Corvo's general level of anxiety was still nice and slow, so he was sure Corvo was alright alone. At least for the moment.

He dumped the shards of bloody glass into a bin in the kitchen. _'Corvo?'_ he thought. Daud waited a moment, but there was no reply, and since Daud had been picking up all manner of random thoughts from the other man, he didn't think it likely Corvo was just ignoring him. Good.

The tight restraint he'd been holding on his emotions was loosened, and the following smashing of tables and plates was probably more satisfying than it should have been. He used his sword to cleave a chair in half, not particularly caring that they already had a limited number of the things. More glasses broke upon the stained and warped floors while flatware went flying into distant corners of the room.

Daud stood amid the destruction, breathing heavy and feeling marginally better. His fury at hearing what he had from Corvo wasn't fully dealt with, but the sharp edge of it had been blunted. You wouldn't even treat a hound as badly as Corvo had been treated. Daud had never seen such a mess of a person, and the man he'd held as he trembled was so hard to reconcile with the muscular wall that had stood between Daud and the Empress. He should not have been chiseled down to thinking of himself as hideous or scared of not even having water for Void's sake!

He was getting angry again just thinking of it. Daud kicked a few shards of crockery across the floor. If he weren't worried about leaving Corvo without supervision, he would go out and find Martin himself. The High Overseer deserved a fitting punishment for all he'd done.

"Sir?" Daud glanced over his shoulder and saw Cleon standing there looking at the mess of his kitchen. "... was there something wrong with breakfast?"

Daud forced himself to relax. He should have found a better way to vent his anger, but holding it inside had spent his patience. Daud just hadn't been able to contain it any longer. "No. Sorry for the mess. I'll send some men out to replace it all."

Cleon nodded and stepped over a broken bowl and then part of a table. "I take it this has something ta do with our guest?"

"... they were even restricting how much water he could have," Daud said after a long few moments of consideration. Cleon frowned. "And he thinks we're going to drug him."

"Well, we knew he might at that," Cleon said.

Daud nodded. "Once he's better off, I think it might be good if he met with you and maybe watched you make his food," Daud said. It wasn't going to be anytime soon, he knew, but they had to do something to ease Corvo's understandable fear, or he wouldn't eat enough to get healthy again.

Cleon nodded. "If it'll help, o' course he can."

Daud stood there and breathed deeply to ease the tightness that was still in his chest. He wanted to do more but destroying his base was not the way to go about it. Cleon had gotten a broom and was sweeping the mess away, so Daud went to gather up the utensils he'd tossed. Corvo's heartbeat was still calm at Daud's chest, which was a relief. There was some measure of privacy granted by distance. They would both need that because Daud had no idea how long he could keep his anger bottled up in this instance.

Typically, Daud was fairly skilled at keeping his anger slowly burning off to the side. It would build slowly and steadily until a massive pile of coals was there. Then all he would have to do is let a bit of dry tinder touch them, and he could spend it all at once. He'd done it to the men that had kidnapped him as a child and taught him the skill of slaughtering people. He'd done it to those that had betrayed him before he'd sworn off killing. But this time, the fire refused to burn down to coals for later. It was too big. Overflowing from the corner he had tucked it away into.

"Did he eat anythin' at all?" Cleon asked as he dumped shards into the trash can.

"Not while I was there," Daud said.

"If it weren't for the fact that I don' think he'd be able ta eat it, I'd say take him some bread or fruit or somethin' hard ta drug," Cleon said.

Daud thought about that for a moment. "Maybe if we cut whatever it is up small enough so he wouldn't have to chew it."

Cleon shrugged. "Couldn't hurt ta try, I suppose."

With how Corvo was currently, Daud wasn't convinced that it couldn't hurt to try, but he didn't know what else to do. The man needed to eat. Maybe they could find something soft enough that Corvo would only need to do the minimal amount of chewing. Some soft fruits came to mind as possibilities. But the Whalers didn't tend to keep things like that in Rudshore as they spoiled so quickly.

Once they had finished cleaning up, Daud grabbed a glass to replace the one Corvo had shattered. If it hadn't sliced Corvo's hands so severely, Daud might have been impressed that he was still strong enough to do it. Crushing a glass in one's hands wasn't as easy as most people seemed to think, and considering Corvo's lack of care, Daud wouldn't have thought he'd be able to do it. Perhaps his mark was helping to keep Corvo from withering away under lack of proper care.

As Daud started back across the walkways, he kept a careful note of when he could start feeling things from the bond with Corvo. He wanted to know how far the range was. He was about a hundred yards out when he began to be able to read Corvo's emotions. The man still seemed calm, thankfully. Daud had worried about walking out since Corvo had stopped him from doing so initially.

Daud knocked on the door. He could feel Corvo's surprise and trepidation. _'It's me, Corvo. Can I come in?'_

Corvo's confusion was heavy. He didn't know why Daud was even asking, and Daud again had to fight the urge to curse Martin and the other 'loyalists' in his head where Corvo might hear. They hadn't given the man even a little consideration, so it really wasn't a surprise they would just barge in on him whenever they wanted. But Daud himself valued his privacy and tried to not trample over other people's -except for when he was on the job, obviously. There was a distinct difference in his mind between stealing information that could affect hundreds of people's lives to just barging into a sick person's room.

Corvo gave quiet and unsure permission for Daud to come in. When Daud did, he was surprised by what he saw. Or rather, didn't see. "Corvo?" Daud asked as he stepped inside. The bed was empty, and it wasn't as if there were many places to be inside the room. 

Daud closed the door behind him and went to put the replacement glass on the table. He was glad to see the cup that had held the mostly liquid food was empty. Corvo must have eaten while Daud was out. "Corvo, is everything alright?" Daud asked as he tried to figure out where the other man had gone. Corvo wasn't hiding behind the doors or behind the dresser. Daud bent down and looked beneath the bed. Corvo was indeed cowering there, and it was heartbreaking. The man was curled up into a tiny ball with his face hidden behind his hands and hair. Corvo hadn't even bothered to take a blanket or pillow with him, so he was nude on the cold floor. "Corvo, come on out of there," Daud said, doing his best to keep his tone neutral since he couldn't possibly reach light and comforting.

There was a moment's pause, and then Corvo crawled out from under the bed. Daud was taken aback as Corvo stayed kneeling there on the floor with his head bowed and looking all too easily like a lifeless puppet. Daud pushed every bit of emotion back. Later. He would deal with that later. "Up on the bed, Corvo. I don't want you on the floor."

Corvo climbed up onto the bed with less hesitation than before. Daud wasn't sure he liked that. He settled himself in the middle of the bed, but his pose of complete subservience hadn't changed. His head was still low, and he was sitting on his knees. "Why did you go under the bed?" Daud asked as he took a blanket and wrapped it around Corvo's bare shoulders. 

Trying to figure out what Corvo was thinking was hard. Currently, the other man's thoughts were a jumble of disjointed words and phrases -most of which sounded to be in Martin's voice rather than Corvo's. Memories, maybe? Daud couldn't know for sure, as Corvo seemed to have backslid mentally while Daud was gone, and there was no easy way to tell why.

Words like 'behave' and 'repayment' kept floating around in Corvo's mind, and Daud had a sinking weight in his stomach. He was beginning to realize what was happening here, and he didn't like it one bit. If Daud was piecing the fragments together properly, Corvo seemed to think he needed to repay the 'kindness' of being given food. Food!

Corvo flinched down, and Daud cringed. He hadn't meant to show his anger. In Corvo's head, there was a sudden flood of terror and apologetic phrases. The pulsing of the pendant around Daud's neck sped up. The man was begging in his head and whimpering with his damaged throat as he slid off the bed immediately and clung to Daud's leg. Daud felt sick as Corvo looked up at him near tears and repeating in his head over and over how good he'd be. Nobody should be reduced to this, especially not a man like Corvo Attano.

Daud reached down and grabbed Corvo by the arms. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get angry. You didn't do anything wrong," Daud said as he pulled Corvo to his feet. Mentally he spent no small effort in thinking of anything and everything relaxing and comforting and pushing that forward. It had seemed to help before. Corvo was in tears as he trembled but didn't resist at all as Daud guided him back onto the bed.

Daud did his best to compartmentalize his emotions as Corvo laid there passively to accept what he assumed was going to be some sort of painful punishment. The idea was sickeningly clear in Corvo's mind. He'd been disobedient. _Displeasing_ somehow. He didn't know what he'd done, but he'd get punished for it anyway.

Daud tried again to push comfort through the bond they shared, but Corvo's panic did not reduce this time. "I'm sorry, Corvo. It was my fault, not yours. I'm not going to hurt you," Daud said. He didn't think his words were reaching Corvo, who was getting closer to actual sobs, and the litany of promises to be good were all running together in his head.

Not knowing what else to do, Daud pulled Corvo into his arms and held him tight. He shushed Corvo as soothingly as he could and pet his hair while pushing more and more calming imagery through his mind. Daud laid down on the bed, wrapped the blankets around Corvo without letting the man go, and tried his best to be soothing.

It took hours to calm Corvo, and Daud was sure that it was only because the broken man exhausted himself and fell asleep that the panic came to an end. Daud would have to be more careful. He couldn't send Corvo into that sort of a reaction again. Living constantly on the verge of such all-encompassing terror wasn't healthy. Well, to be fair, nothing about Corvo's current situation was healthy. Daud didn't like the implications he had gotten from Corvo's reaction to his fear. That he had to beg and plead and debase himself to apologize for something he hadn't even done. Daud couldn't imagine -nor did he want to- what Corvo would have been saying had he the ability to do so. The desperate mental apologies were more than enough to curdle Daud's insides.

Daud carefully situated Corvo into what he hoped was a more comfortable position and tucked the blankets around his too-thin frame. "I'm so sorry, Corvo. For everything." Corvo couldn't hear him, but that didn't matter. 

After about ten or so minutes, Daud carefully shifted Corvo off of him and got up from the bed. He only ducked out into the hall to summon Thomas. He didn't want to wake Corvo or have him wake up with someone unexpected in his room. "Sir," Thomas greeted when he appeared from the cloud of void energy.

"Attano's things. You put them in my office?"

"As you said, yes," Thomas agreed.

"Bring them here to me."

Initially, Daud had been too concerned with getting Corvo medical help to worry about the bag of things Wallace had given them. He'd just told Thomas to put it in his office so that he could deal with it later. But, now _was_ later, and he was hoping he'd find something that would give Corvo some sense of familiarity and comfort.

Thomas bowed and disappeared. Daud kept half his attention on Corvo's state. The pendant was still slowly pulsing. Relaxed. Corvo was peacefully asleep.

It only took Thomas a few minutes to return with the depressingly small bag in hand. Daud dismissed his second and returned to the bed. Corvo shifted as Daud sat back down but settled after he pressed against Daud's side. The Master Assassin had such mixed feelings about that. He'd just scared Corvo out of his mind, and now the man was seeking comfort in his sleep from him? He shouldn't be, but Corvo hadn't seemed to attach himself to anyone else, and Daud couldn't remove himself if he was literally the only source of comfort. He didn't know why he was the comfort when he was so bad at it, but that was not something to waste time pondering.

Daud rubbed Corvo's back before opening the bag. Right on top was the mask that had become so infamous in the city. Skull-like with golden wires and large lenses -it was meant to inspire fear. Daud put the mask to the side and dug a little deeper. He pulled out several thin blankets. They honestly had a smell to them and looked to have never been washed. Dark stains that he identified as blood were frequent on the already dark fabric. Daud's instinct was to toss the pile of fabric or at least wash it, but he held himself back. He was looking for something familiar to Corvo, and these blankets, as unpleasant as they were, would probably fit that bill. Daud wrapped the blankets around Corvo along with the others that were already there.

Next, Daud pulled out a dark blue coat. Still in fairly good condition though it had been patched a few times. It looked remarkably like the coat Attano wore that day so long ago when he was still Royal Protector. A pair of somewhat scuffed boots and a set of passable clothes were also in the bag. Most likely what he wore when he was being forced to kill people. There were some bloodstains on the shirt and coat cuffs.

There was a small collection of bone charms in the bag. Daud let his thumb of his marked hand rub lightly across the runes carved into the whalebone. The mark let him know what the charms did. Keeping away rats and altering water. Making hounds like the carrier. One that helped you hide. Daud put the small pile on the side table. No doubt, Corvo would be glad to have them back.

Daud started pulling out weapons from the bag and hesitated. Those might not be wise to keep nearby. With Corvo's current mental state, Daud couldn't predict how he would react to anything, so adding a strange collapsable sword to the mix didn't seem the smartest idea. But maybe Corvo would feel safer with a weapon? Daud put the pile to the side to decide on later. 

Daud thought that he'd reached the bottom of the bag when he heard a crackling noise. With a frown, Daud reached in again and pulled out a few pieces of paper. Maybe instructions from Wallace? Tips on what Corvo could eat?

Daud unfolded the first paper and saw a child's drawing. A city on fire with a black sky and an orange tower that had a tiny figure trapped in the top window. Another illustration came out after. This one was of a woman with dark hair and pink cheeks and the word 'Mummy' written at the top. Daud could feel his own blade digging into his chest. The third paper was a drawing of a yellow cat with the letters 'G.C.' written beside it. And the last paper was a picture of a man smiling with dark hair to his shoulders. This one bore the word 'Daddy' across the top. But the last image had been ripped to shreds and pasted back together onto a second piece of paper. Small parts were missing, and it was so wrinkled and faded as opposed to the others.

Daud looked down at the mass beside him that was Corvo. Had he been the one to rip the picture apart, or had it been Martin? He didn't know which answer he wanted because Daud honestly didn't know which answer would be worse.


	12. Chapter 12

He woke up feeling absolutely awful. Everything ached as if he'd tried to move an entire whaling ship on his own, and he couldn't stop shaking, although he wasn't cold. If anything, he was far too hot. He would have thought he'd prefer being hot to cold, but he wasn't any more comfortable. Sweat dampened his hair as he curled up tight. He felt so nauseous. Maybe he shouldn't have risked eating that food.

"Corvo?" The large hand on his back rubbed in small circles, which was mildly soothing but not enough to truly help much. "You're shaking. Are you alright?"

He felt sick. So, so sick. Corvo swallowed, but that didn't help ease the discomfort. If anything, it almost made him more aware of how dry his damaged throat was.

Corvo heard a sound like the Void.

Then a chilled ceramic pot was tucked under the edge of the blankets he was cocooned within. "Here. If you get sick, this will keep the bed clean," the warm man -Daud. His name is Daud. He had to remember that- said.

"It's alright, Corvo. You've been through a lot. Remembering my name isn't as important as other things," Daud said.

Corvo wasn't sure about that but wasn't in a position to argue. So, he carefully pulled the pot closer to himself in case his stomach gave up the struggle to keep what food he'd eaten down. The cool, smooth surface was nice to feel against his heated skin. 

He felt so awful, but no matter how he would like to slip off to sleep and escape the way his body felt as if it had been pulled in every direction, he just couldn't. The sheets under him were damp from his sweat and uncomfortable, but Corvo didn't want to leave the safety of the blankets where everything was dark and warm and enclosed. He knew the cocoon of fabric wasn't as safe as the metal walls of his den, but he could pretend.

"You are safe, Corvo. You have my word," Daud said.

Corvo trembled and tried with limited success to take that to heart. His arms and legs were sore even when he wasn't trying to be tightly curled up. He remembered feeling so horrible before. Sometimes for short periods, other times for much longer. The aches and pains and trembling were all-consuming and familiar.

Daud continued rubbing Corvo's back, which helped a little but not enough. Corvo felt bile crawling up his damaged throat, and he swallowed hard. The action didn't help much and felt like trying to swallow a craggy rock, and fresh tears sprung to his eyes. He couldn't hold it back, and Corvo turned his head into the shallow pot to be sick.

It hurt. His stomach and throat were so sensitive that his own stomach acids felt like fire. His aching muscles screamed as his body heaved without his control. Daud continued to rub his back through the blankets as Corvo clung to the edge of the pot and lost what little food he'd managed to consume. Even after his stomach was empty, he heaved several times.

Corvo panted to try and catch his breath as tears mingled with the sweat on his face. He had always hated getting ill, and it happened more frequently now after the acid. 

Corvo spat as best he could to try and get the residue out of his mouth. _'Here. Water for you.'_ Corvo blinked and tilted his head. The blanket was still shielding him, but he dared lift the edge and saw a glass of water. Hesitantly he reached for it. Corvo wasn't happy at how his arm trembled as he grasped the glass and pushed himself up just enough to sip at the thankfully cool liquid. He spat the first few sips back out to rinse his mouth before daring to drink anything. His stomach still wasn't settled, and he didn't want to vomit again.

After Corvo finished with the water, he held it out, and Daud took the glass away. Corvo turned and curled up with his back pressed against Daud's side. The other man's warmth was soothing to the tight and throbbing muscles of Corvo's back. He wanted the pain to stop, but he remembered from before that that it wasn't going to stop quickly.

Corvo whined and curled up tighter with the pot beside him if his still churning stomach continued to cause problems. He had a feeling that it would. 

_'Tell me how to help,'_ Daud's voice floated through Corvo's mind. A warm non-painful spot that Corvo wanted to cling to. He didn't want to pay attention to the aches and discomfort. His head hurt still, and thinking just made it worse. "Alright," Daud said even though Corvo didn't think he'd answered the other man intentionally. "Sorry if I'm not great at this, but I'll try."

"My mother told me a story once of a little boy that lived in a distant, wild land," Daud said. Corvo still trembled but tried to pay more attention to the words being spoken than the pain. Daud cleared his throat. "The boy's Father was a great leader of their people. He was powerful and religious but strict and unyielding. The boy was a carefree sort and always ran off to the beaches where he would search for treasures such as shells and bits of whalebone. He would sit on the rocks and watch the whales in the distance and the seals sunning themselves on the beach even while he should have been studying."

"The boy's Father wasn't pleased by how much time his son spent playing in the waves and drawing the giant sea creatures that were out beyond the rocky shores. The boy's Father had married a woman with a son of her own that was more studious and serious than the man's blood son. The man favored his wife's son more than his own and gave him whatever he wanted. His own son didn't mind so long as he was still able to explore the tidepools and swim in the surf."

"Several years later, a devastating famine hit their small country, and no rain would fall. The boy's Father determined that it was because the Gods were displeased with them for not being devoted enough. So, one day, the man took his son out on a boat into the middle of the ocean. They watched the dolphins jump and listened to the whales sing through the boat. He asked his son, 'Do you wish to help your Father, son? You would make me very proud.'"

Daud rubbed between Corvo's shoulder blades again. "His son said that he did. The Father tied rocks to the boy's ankles and threw him into the sea as a sacrifice to the Gods. But the sea that the boy loved refused to take his life. The clever seals undid the ropes, and the dolphins swam the boy away where he could live on the back of whales. The rain that the Father wanted so much came. And it rained and rained and rained until the entire city was washed into the sea. And so the boy lives to this day with the whales, and those that would wrong him are plagued with rain."

"I've always thought of it as a story about being careful who you cross and evil people getting what they deserve," Daud said. "Probably should have taken it more to heart than I have in the past. Wouldn't have made so many mistakes then."

_'... I think I heard that before.'_

Daud seemed surprised through their link. "You have?"

Corvo nodded his head just enough to make the ache worse. _'Sounded familiar...'_

"Well, I guess it is a pretty common fairy tale in Serkonos. It makes sense that you might have heard it before."

_'Always felt lonely.'_

"What do you mean?" Daud asked. "The boy ends up living with all his sea life friends."

_'But it's not the same. And everyone he knew before is dead.'_

"I suppose that's true," Daud said. Corvo had the impression that Daud was troubled about something. Before Corvo could apologize for whatever he had done, the strange, almost guilty sensation coming from Daud disappeared. "Do you want me to keep talking?"

Corvo hesitated for a moment before thinking yes. Daud's voice was soothing, though Corvo wasn't sure why. Daud's voice was gruff and not particularly friendly but also strangely warm. It reminded Corvo of a big rug he had sometimes slept on when the Overseer was happy with him but not happy enough to let Corvo into the bed. The fur had been coarse against his bare skin, and the floor was so hard underneath. The rug, however, had helped Corvo stay comfortable because it was thick enough to keep him warm and slightly cushioned his aching body. Corvo had liked that rug, and Daud was like the human equivalent to it.

Daud's emotions spiked with hot anger and Corvo froze. He was so _stupid_. How could he compare a person to _rug?_ That was ridiculous! Of course, Daud would be upset! Corvo was a complete-

_'Corvo. I'm not upset.'_

A wave of warm, soothing sensations flooded Corvo's brain. It helped to blanket some of the panic, although it still lingered. "I know it's hard to understand after everything you've been through, Corvo, but I'm truly not angry with you. It's those bastards that did this to you that I'm furious with," Daud said.

That was nice of Daud to say, but Corvo knew better. It was what Corvo was thinking that kept making Daud mad. So it had to be Corvo's fault. Corvo might not be smart, but he knew that to be a fact. If someone was angry, Corvo was to blame. He'd done something, even if he didn't know what that was. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been punished so often.

"Is that what they told you?" Daud asked. "Because that's not true."

Corvo blinked, not sure what Daud meant. "People can hurt others without it being deserved. And that's what they did to you. You didn't deserve it and didn't do anything wrong."

Corvo shook his head. Daud was wrong. He didn't understand how bad Corvo was. How disobedient he could be. Corvo was punished because he was terrible, and the Overseer was trying to help him be better. Even though it was mostly futile with the dirty mark of a heretic on his skin, the Overseer tried his best. Corvo was the one that couldn't absorb the lessons he was given.

The bile in Corvo's tender stomach picked that moment to try and rise up again. Corvo gagged, bent over the pot beside him just in case. Daud rubbed his back and told him everything was going to be alright. Corvo didn't feel like things were going to be 'alright,' he felt as if he was dying. That his insides were turning into molten mush that he had to get rid of in the very unpleasant way of being physically ill. His whole body still ached even more when he'd finally stopped gagging and heaving over the pot.

"If it gets too much, just let me know, and I'll hand you the tea. It might help take the edge off," Daud said.

Daud was worried, and Corvo could tell. Although Corvo wasn't sure why, being able to feel Daud's concern and having the other man rubbing his back made something warm flutter in Corvo's chest. Corvo didn't mean to react, but he shifted back to press his back more into Daud's side. Just knowing Daud was there was a comfort, and feeling his body heat helped his trembling muscles.

Corvo might keep upsetting Daud, but Corvo was now used to upsetting the people who cared for him. He did it with the Overseer all the time despite his best efforts. Daud hadn't punished him for it yet, though, and Corvo couldn't resist trying to get closer while he could.

There was a moment's pause, and Corvo's stomach finally stopped exploding, and he was able to settle back down. Once Corvo had curled up again, Daud shifted. At first, Corvo wasn't sure what the other man was doing, and then Daud's strong arm wrapped around Corvo's shriveled chest. Daud tugged lightly, and Corvo allowed himself to be pressed back into Daud's well-defined chest.

Corvo was surprised. For some reason, he had the thought that Daud wasn't fond of contact and so had been more than happy to just be allowed to lay beside him. But here he was holding Corvo close. "I think I can recall another couple fables, if you want," Daud said. Corvo was still somewhat baffled but too shameless to not just accept the comfort being offered to him.

Daud started talking again. The slight rasp in his voice and the warmth of his body were soothing. Corvo closed his eyes and focused on the other man rather than how his body was still racked with pain.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There are speculations of sexual assault in this chapter. Nothing graphic just two characters discussing if it possibly happened to Corvo. No conclusion is reached. If anyone is desperate to know for sure or needs to know for triggering reasons I will answer the question of if sexual assault happened in the end notes.

The pain didn't go away. If anything, it grew worse. Corvo trembled, and his sweat soaked into the bedding around him. He still felt queasy but luckily didn't have anything left in his stomach to throw up. Daud would keep talking to him, but Corvo couldn't always listen. Sometimes the pain was too distracting, and other times Corvo slipped off into unconsciousness. He didn't know if Daud spoke the whole time, but he seemed to be doing so when Corvo could actually pay attention to the world around him and not the pain crawling through his body. He wanted... he wanted something to make it stop. He wasn't sure what would, but the constant pain was just so much.

Daud rubbed his arm, and Corvo let himself focus on the other man's presence. He couldn't recall ever having been held like this before. Sir had tolerated Corvo clinging to him at times and would pet his hair frequently, but that just _felt_ different than this did. It didn't feel like Daud was simply tolerating him or his pathetic neediness. After all, Daud was the one whose arms were around Corvo.

Corvo listened to Daud's stories as best he could. Some he recognized or thought he should remember, and others he didn't. Most were fanciful tales where young children had an adventure or escaped a danger. Nothing horrible seemed to last for long. It was nice.

He was able to relax some despite the aches and pains that were all over his body. Corvo was still nauseous but not as badly as before. Daud offered him water again, and Corvo sipped about half a glass before he felt he'd be sick if he drank more. Despite feeling so horrible, Corvo was also aware of a faint fluttering in his chest that he couldn't entirely place the source of. It felt nice, though, and if he could, Corvo would hold it close and secret where it couldn't get trampled on. Every good feeling always faded away or got torn to shreds sooner or later. So, he had to shield it and hold it as preciously as it was.

Corvo felt oddly safe. He couldn't remember the last time he had. If he ever had. Except perhaps in his den with the door locked. He was safe then. He could just exist in the dark where nobody could see or hurt him. But here in Daud's arms was a different kind of safe. Sir had never felt safe like this. His affection had always been on the condition that Corvo be perfect beforehand. If Corvo wasn't perfect, the closest he could get was sleeping on the rug, and if he was just adequate, he went back to his den. Corvo rarely was perfect.

But Daud hadn't demanded anything of Corvo. If anything he'd been far too lenient. He even ignored when Corvo had broken the glass and spilled water. He didn't let Corvo wear his face, but he didn't insist on the gnarled flesh beneath be exposed either. He let Corvo stay hidden even though Sir had hated that. Sir always wanted to see him when they were in the same area. Corvo had even spent hours at a time just sitting on the floor while Sir worked just so that Sir could see him. But Daud didn't even want Corvo on the floor at all. It was so different from what Corvo had come to expect.

That fluttering in his chest was clear evidence of that, and Corvo hoped that Daud couldn't pick up on it through their Heretical bond. He didn't know if Daud would like Corvo feeling such things. And if it turned out Daud didn't like it... Corvo didn't want to risk that being enough to turn the man's anger on him.

So, for now, Corvo pushed the feeling deep down for only himself to bask in at a later date. Instead, he focused on soaking in the comfort of another person. Of Daud. It was easy to do. Sir always said he was greedy. Corvo tried not to be, but Daud was hard to not be greedy about. Corvo was glad that Daud hadn't left but that one time. Corvo hadn't liked him leaving.

And then, after some time of being in Daud's arms, the lightning came. The pain made garbled cries tear through his damaged throat, and his muscles acted on their own. Daud quickly let him go as Corvo's body twisted and bent without his control. It hurt so much, and being out of control was terrifying. The pain kept exploding through him in endless jarring pulses.

Slowly, everything faded, and Corvo tried to regain his bearings. "Corvo. Are you alright?" Daud asked. He'd let Corvo spasm on his own but now gently put a hand to Corvo's shoulder again. "I'm going to bring our Doctor here, alright?"

Corvo couldn't bring himself to answer. He was still struggling to forget the pain that was lingering in his mind and body. He tried to pull his mind to the present, but he couldn't quite do so. Everything felt hazy and out of focus. The sound of the Void filled the room for a split second. "Sir?"

"Montgomery. I think he had a seizure," Daud said. "Corvo?" Corvo trembled as Daud sat back down beside him. He wasn't scared of Daud, but he was confused, and every nerve ending felt raw. Like he couldn't possibly be touched. "Corvo, I need you to let Montgomery look you over. Just for a few minutes."

Then Corvo was no longer under the blankets, and a strange man was looking him over. Corvo blinked, very confused at how that had happened so quickly. He shied away from whoever it was. He just wanted to curl up against Daud and not hurt anymore. He didn't like being looked at and buried his head to try and avoid it. The scarred meat that usually resided under his face wasn't fit for anyone to look at.

Thankfully, they stopped insisting, and Corvo was able to press himself against the warm muscled body beside him. He was tired and didn't bother resisting the urge to close his eyes. Between his muddled thoughts, the memory of pain, and the warmth radiating from Daud, Corvo was able to drift off to sleep without much issue. He welcomed it. Sleep was a safe, peaceful place where he didn't have to feel so horrible all the time.

* * *

"Should we let him sleep?" Daud asked as Corvo curled up practically on top of Daud. "Is it safe?"

"It should be," Montgomery said. "Keep an eye on him in case he has another. Has he had any of the tea?"

Daud shook his head. "He's just been suffering through it. I'm not sure he remembers that I told him the drugs were there, to be honest. Should I remind him?"

Montgomery thought about that for a moment. "It might help prevent another seizure, but it will also take him longer to detox if we wean him off of it instead. I think it would probably be safer considering how much they were probably giving him."

Daud slowly nodded. He would have to remind Corvo then. He didn't want to put the man through more suffering than necessary. Although he wasn't entirely sure Corvo knew what was happening to him. The thoughts that Daud had caught leading up to the seizure were a jumbled mess, and Corvo didn't even seem to realize he was aching for a fix.

In a way, it made sense if Corvo was always drugged while it was masked with food and drink that he wouldn't recognize the withdrawal for what it was. Plus, his memory was still so muddled Daud wasn't sure what Corvo accurately remembered at any given time. "Other than the seizure, how has he been doing?" Montgomery asked.

"He did eat. But then threw it all back up not long after," Daud said. "I managed to get some water into him but not as often as I'd like. He seems miserable, honestly, but there isn't too much to do about it, I know."

Daud hesitated over the next things he wanted to say. It felt like a betrayal of Corvo's trust somehow. But Daud knew that, as the doctor currently in charge of Corvo's recovery, Montgomery needed to know what Daud suspected. "The Outsider has let us sometimes catch each other's thoughts, and some of what I have heard from Corvo has been... leading," Daud said.

Montgomery was smart enough to not question the Outsider's involvement and just focused on the latter half of what Daud said. "Leading in what way?"

Daud frowned. "I think that Martin might have... molested him at least. He thought several times something about being 'allowed' into the bed with the bastard, and I can't see why he would do that unless it was for..."

"Impure reasons?" Montgomery suggested. Daud inclined his head. That was better than saying the words that had popped into his mind.

"It's possible. But it could just have been another form of manipulation on Martin's part. Knowing that Corvo was restricted in human contact and being the only one giving it might have been an attempt to form a dependency and emotional bond that he could use as another form of control," Montgomery said. "From what I've heard, High Overseer Martin is definitely the type that would exert that sort of control."

Daud tried to bury his frustration so as to not wake Corvo, who was still curled against him. "As if he wasn't controlling Corvo enough. The man couldn't even drink water as much as he wanted."

"I've read about people that get their gratification purely through means other than the physical," Montgomery said. "Humiliating others, causing outrage, and even manipulation or controlling others. To them, that is what they most desire. Martin might be that sort. If that's the case, he might not have bothered even touching Corvo. Of course, that certainly doesn't rule out the possibility. If Corvo ever thinks anything more concrete or if you see clear evidence, bring it to me, and we can discuss how to continue."

Daud nodded. He supposed that was the best they could do for now. All Daud had were uncomfortable suspicions based on how Corvo alternated between desperation and utter subservience. In Daud's experience with slavers and other criminals, such trained behaviors usually turned into even worse. But, perhaps they had managed to step in before Martin had gone that far and exerted that last bit of power and force onto his captive. Daud hoped so. Corvo was going to have a hard enough time coming back from this even without sexual assault in the mix.

"Thank you, Montgomery. I think it would be best if you aren't here when he wakes up, though," Daud said. "He's clearly not used to many people anymore."

Montgomery nodded. "If you need me, just summon me, Sir." With a shallow bow, Montgomery disappeared in a flurry of shadow and void energy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Martin did not rape Corvo. The most he did was what you saw in the previous chapter of fondling him in the bath and then acting innocent while blaming Corvo. His end game _was_ to make Corvo so desperate for affection he'd basically beg for it himself and then Martin would both be able to have his physical pleasure and then gaslight Corvo for asking for it in the first place. He never got to this point but he did fantasize about it. His main goal was to twist Corvo to being entirely, desperately, unthinkingly devoted to him and he saw manipulating Corvo into begging his abuser for sex as the ultimate proof he'd succeeded. It was all a sick power fantasy/game to Martin.


End file.
